


MERAKI (v.)

by XIIVA (XeroXiiva)



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alien Biology, Bonding Complications, Comfort/Angst, Dark fic, Established Relationship, M/M, Pon Farr, Post-Star Trek Beyond, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2018-08-23 07:44:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 52,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8319604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XeroXiiva/pseuds/XIIVA
Summary: Meraki (μεράκι)(v.) The soul, creativity, or love put into something. The essence of yourself that remains in your efforts and work.





	1. SESSION 00

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
> For the first time - I'm posting something that isn't a WIP.  
> Of course I will hold on to my chapters and continue to edit for now. Either way, I'm delighted to announce that updates will be frequent!
> 
> Song: Breathe by Lauv  
> Warning: Angst will apply to each chapter. Keep in mind that I will always apply trigger warnings. Duh.
> 
> This is not a 'first time' story. This is a story of two people that love each other and are willing to hang on with every fiber of their being. It's not fluff. There is the occasional humor though. Just don't expect more than that.  
> This is my take on the challenges within intraspecific relationships and some unpopular headcanons.
> 
> I apologize beforehand.
> 
> ~X

**SESSION 00**

Conversations.

Debates.

Arguments.

All were invited, owing to the fact that no matter the outcome, information was shared. This was true during their five-year mission. This was true during the gradual transformation of their relationship.

Now, thoughts were displayed through their link. To Jim, this never meant that they were to push aside the importance of communication. Maybe Spock could have, just not Jim.

Conversations.

Debates.

Arguments.

Yes, a link was placed and one of its main aspects is to share thoughts, except there was nothing to act as a filter in between. That complication alone was a complication deserving of every expletive spit out of Jim's mouth in who knows how long.

Obviously, it was something they could work around – it's not as if they had anything to hide, excluding the little embarrassment here and there. Some were harder to decipher than others, at least on Jim’s part. To his knowledge, Spock heard this loud and clear, just lacking the tools to utilize them to his full potential.

Confusion conjured through this over time as a result, hence the importance of communication. The objective was that no matter the material transmitted, they talked through it.

Quiet.

Silence.

Hush.

All were not tolerable in Jim's eyes. How could they be, when the last five months were like drowning in water? In a time when it was most crucial for them to overcome their current plight, Spock decided to resort to the detrimental three.

Quiet.

Silence.

Hush.

No more.

In the dead stillness of Spock's room, Jim swallowed, feeling the dryness of his throat.

That's right – this was their home and they haven't slept in the same bed. It's been so long, that Jim began to internally refer to the 'guest room' as 'Spock's room'.

He abhorred entering this space, because he could see that with each day, Spock moved more and more stuff in here. The clothes, the incenses', the toiletries and other personal items just appeared, Jim never seeing Spock actually place them there. It wasn't the guest room it used to be. It lost its intended meaning, further broadcasting their separation.

"We need to talk to someone."

Right when Spock exhaled under his covers of the dark environment, the pinch that Jim became used to suddenly pinched tighter than expected and it definitely wasn’t the heat.

Spock didn't move an inch, a gesture of total resignation.

The energy to elaborate on this request escaped Jim. It did so because he knew all attempts would be like talking to a brittle wall with jumbled whispers exuding from ever crack.

He wished to blame this fatigue on his intensive workday in headquarters, except deep inside, he knew he wouldn't speak of this because he couldn't face the thought of being met with silence.

Spock wanted Jim to leave.

Whether that was out of this room or out of Spock's life, Jim was still speculating. If this desire from Spock manifested out of annoyance, or from self-hate again, Jim didn't know either.

He wasn't an expert in this, and the only person who could help him was deceased, and the other, being Spock's father, was leading a few through a spiritual cleanse, a common practice in the aftermaths of a tragedy. It was an annual retreat on New Vulcan, a mechanism to reflect on the anniversary.

Tick, tick, tick – no answer from Spock.

So Jim did as he always did for the last four weeks. He gave in when he normally would have put in more effort.

He sucked in his lips and breathed through his nose. "Okay."

With a subtle shut of the door, Jim returned to the solace of what used to be their room, plummeted his entire weight on the mattress, sinking into it. The scent of Spock long abandoned him.

He lazily stretched his hand and grabbed the bottle of … whatever it was on his nightstand and took a massive burning gulp. Having the day off tomorrow would have been great, except it just provided Jim personal time that he didn't want. There was nothing to do and no one to speak to, and this included his bondmate.

Those measly endeavors of popping in, bringing food, or just outright saying 'hello' were barely noticed or cared for. It was an ugly feeling, knowing that whenever Spock eventually left his room to make something for himself, Jim wished Spock _didn't_.

Watching Spock walk past him as if he didn't exit, as if their connection wasn't pounding between them was devouring all his will to try.

Saying that they should resort to a therapist, a 'marriage' counselor was preposterous now that Jim thought about it. A human couldn't comprehend this, let alone aid seeking out a solution.

A Vulcan wouldn't either because of the very fact that Jim was human, and therefore half of the problem. He wasn't a saint himself.

Jim acknowledged that if he didn't say or think half of the things he did, they wouldn't be where they were.

Pretty soon into the night, the darkness took over as he covered his eyes with a palm, letting out the bitterest laugh possible. This was not how things were supposed to go.

Not at all.

**.**

**.**

**.**

"Everything going good and steady with our lovely USS Cybele?"

The three officers currently occupying the surveillance room in HQ nodded and hummed their recent updates. Lieutenant Commander Connor swirled his silver seat around just as Jim sat down with his morning mug of coffee. He made sure to include this mug in his belongings on his last night in the Enterprise. Five years, and this was all he had from her.

Connor raised his chestnut, bushy brow. It was one that almost put Jim's brows to shame. "With all due respect, sir – why're you here?"

 _To escape the suffocating environment that is my home._ "Commander Winston's successful situation ate away at my sleep." Jim replied, looking at the neon blue projection of the USS Cybele route dancing in the center of the elongated table. "The same must have happened to Captain Novelli, if her logs are anything to go by."

The answer satisfied the group.

"Well … She's pretty emotional, I must say."

"I would be too." Jim smirked as the rest around him chuckled. "She almost lost Winston. Now he's strutting down the decks with a set of bio-synthetic lungs."

"How'd you think he's going to explain that to his wife?"

"Maybe with a _‘Hello, I'm still alive._ '" Jim doubted that Winston's wife would care for much else.

"Commodore Kirk," Lieutenant Adir spoke up, her perfectly pedicured fingers still on the consul, not batting an eye away from it. "It's possible that his wife may persuade him to transfer to a more safe position once they return.”

"Like ours?"

"Precisely. This is his third incident this month alone.” She affirmed.

"It's not our business.” Jim answered. “I'm sure Novelli can find another First Officer that's just as fitting. Although she has expressed her dislike of the idea many times."

Adir casted a quick glance at her boss. "She's using her logs like some diary."

"Yeah … that tends to happen." Jim said, instantly thinking of his former bad habits. "Now, what's the latest we have on Engineering?"

Connor nudged Jim in the most unprofessional manner, never bothering with boundaries since they started working together and snorted. "McLaughlin and Grady have reached another disagreement again."

If Jim hasn't worked with these people for a year, he might have held in his groan to appear more like the superior he was. Instead, the USS Cybele deserved the loudest of groans. "Does this require our immediate assistance? Because I don’t see how – “

"Novelli is handling it, sir." Connor informed.

"They better learn to work together." He opined, taking a sip of the sugarless liquid. "Their Captain won't be so merciful next time. Now onto more important matters please.”

**.**

**.**

**.**

The idea of moving out has crossed his mind. The scary thing was, it crossed both their minds. It did nothing to cancel out the guilt it brought out in the other.

Jim thought of it first during breakfast as they ate together, a rare occurrence in itself. He took a bite of his waffle and briefly wondered how Spock would react if he packed his stuff and disappeared for a short time … or permanently.

Any idiot could look at them and tell that this wouldn't work out.

Of course he didn't mean it, his psyche being a canvas of scrambled thoughts and dark possibilities. The motive was just one of many in a pool of conclusions, or actual solutions.

Nevertheless, the second it sprung up in his mind, it was dusted away. That should have been the end of it, except Spock's agreement caressed it before its exit.

Spock thought it was also best they separate physically, because if Jim wanted to be completely truthful, they ended emotionally long ago.

Fearing the outcome of breathing life into this topic, the toxic silence that met them was much worse. None of them had the guts to speak. They cleared the table a little quicker, Jim placed his plate in the sink a little harder, and Spock might have paced faster and sighed louder. In the end, not a word was uttered between them.

If one were to leave, it would be the end.

Jim chose, he chose with all his heart to believe that perhaps their reluctance to mention the possibility was a sign of showing a little faith.

> _**SENT: MMS (Leonard McCoy)** _
> 
> \- _Jimmy!_
> 
> \- _What did I say?!_
> 
> \- _Hello, 'Uncle Jim!'_
> 
> \- _Much better._
> 
> \- _I'm sure he wouldn't mind. It's my prom day, pops. Have some chill._
> 
> \- _Right …_
> 
> \- _How are you and Spock? Pops was testy in making this video, but I forced him! I'm so excited to show you my one and only. That, and my dress of course._
> 
> \- _Jim. She's driving me mad. There ain't enough hypos in the Sol system -_
> 
> \- _I want you to meet Al!_
> 
> \- _His name's Alfred, Jim! Don't enable the guy any more than he needs. He thinks he's some pop star._
> 
> \- _Al wants to say 'Hi!'_
> 
> \- _Hello, Commodore Kirk. Pleasure to say 'hello'. I hope to meet you one day. It would be an honor._
> 
> \- _Don't let this fake attitude fool you, Jim. He's a tatted monster!_
> 
> \- _I like to think of it as an expression of my art, Leo._
> 
> \- _It's Leonard if anything, boy!_
> 
> \- _Not now. Stop, stop, stop. I'll spare you a bit, Uncle Jim. I promise not to get knocked up, to stay away from the Andorian Ale -_
> 
> \- _From all forms of alcohol!_
> 
> \- _… and dance like it's my last day!_
> 
> \- _God, help me._

The video played again and again, and it caused a sincere smile that felt almost foreign on his face. The cushion of his hovercraft seat was a comfort as familiar as his bed. There were times when he would just sit here and reflect on his current predicament.

This was also the ideal place where he could be isolated from the world…

Jim rested his head on the wheel and deeply inhaled. Alone in his driveway, dreading what was behind the front door, he almost laughed at thinking that he was isolated. He could never be.

This link made it so that it was impossible.

If Spock were blindfolded and deaf, he would know exactly where Jim was and have access to Jim's thoughts. Spock wasn't the best at understanding them, but he always had some kind of idea - Some times more than others. Some times, more than Jim preferred.

_'For fuck's sake, get out of my head!'_

Yes, Jim wasn't a saint at all.

If his own access to Spock's mind wasn’t as intricate and just like Spock’s, he knew for certain that Spock would have never yelled those words in spite and out of raging emotion.

In the beginning, Jim knew that this new development would take time to adjust. He expected it. He accepted the challenge with wide arms. It's safe to say now that he underestimated what he was getting himself into.

Some nights, the connection became so raw, he had to drink himself to oblivion to tolerate it. It was that, or he had to be sedated.

Their little problems and disagreements prior to the built up perturbation never had a chance to be dealt with properly, to breathe clean air, only further accelerated by this hopelessness.

Sometimes, love just wasn't _enough_.

**.**

**.**

**.**

The door slid open and Jim stepped inside, his head low as he took off his shoes. He dropped his suitcase on one of the three leather couches and made his way into the kitchen without looking up. A dim light automatically flickered above him.

There used to be a time when he would announce his arrival with a smile, anticipating Spock's response, gladly exchanging how both their days went since it was unlikely that they would bump into the other, finding pleasure in each other's company at the end of it.

Now … it was normal to enter his home to be met with nothing.

So when Spock cleared his throat, shattering the silence, Jim jumped in his spot. He would have sensed it not only through their link but also through his common senses and addressed it. Instead, he has never been so caught off guard.

Another example of its unpredictability.

He cursed, immediately shifting his body right, looking at Spock in dressed outside attire, sitting behind the rectangular glass table in the middle of the living room. He blinked a couple times too many and directed his gaze on the enormous file on top of the table.

"What I have here is the most recent background check, gathered intelligence of known successful cases and vital statistics of Dr. Ryhr Ch'zothon of Betazed, whom is the prime candidate to oversee our … challenges."

The words were strong, clear, and direct, and Jim could feel the hurt in each syllable. This move towards progression was also a symbol of how low they fell.

"A counselor?" He knew exactly what Spock meant. He just wanted affirmation.

"Indeed."

"This isn't just for me." Jim responded, putting his foot down. Spock needed to know this.

"This is for _us_." Spock said, keeping his gaze on anywhere but Jim. "The chances of success are not in our favor, and despite the ill thoughts and words we have shared, I wish to believe that we can rectify this. Our actions have not been admirable, however if we are to depart on our own paths, we will know that we – "

"- tried everything." Jim finished with a whisper, feeling like he could tip over any second.

The low sound of Spock standing up made Jim believe that Spock was returning back into his room. When the steps became more pronounced, it was apparent that Spock was walking towards him instead of retreating, a reaction that became so normal to them.

Ironically, Jim felt like retreating because of it.

Less than an arm's width away, Spock was assessing if any contact between them would be appropriate.

Both were confused as to what to do next, and it was solid iron on Jim's shoulders, forcing him to just crumble. This was how nervous they were around the other. No, it was absolutely nothing like those butterflies in his stomach in their earlier days as roommates.

This was the nervousness that could spark intense anxiety, resulting in complete exhaustion.

He could sense Spock's solemn look on his person as he stared at Spock's chest. Without a thought, he hit the target with a weak slap. It angered him that things turned against them when they were everything to each other. The purpose of courting a potential lover was to see if life together was plausible.

And they did that for _years_. They did everything right, and this was where they were.

He lost control of his body as he directed another hit and another. He was hitting the man that would catch him without thought if his knees gave up.

Five hits later, and Spock lightly held Jim's wrists, caressing the sides with his thumbs, halting all irrational behavior.

"I am _trying_." Spock's voice was on the verge of breaking, and it reminded Jim exactly why he went into this without care, with all the underestimation in the world. He could not see himself without Spock.

"Please, just … don't leave me." He confessed, clutching onto Spock's robe as if it was the thread to their newly forming hope.

"And I am asking you the same, defying all the logic I adhere by." It was a request that could easy turn into an urging plea.

If there were any reason between them, they wouldn't have let things get this far, already leading separate lives.

"I have trapped you with my devotion, Jim." Spock hummed, his concern lingering through. "Forgive me, for my selfishness has hindered any chances at freedom."

Jim wasn't going to deny that he was a prisoner. Still, he was a prisoner by will, who would take anything that was given as a bestowal. He could not say this enough. "Don't – "

"I should regret this." Spock blurted out with a hiss.

"But you won't." The sureness of it all resonated in his cells.

Spock formed circles on Jim's hot skin, the only contact they could tolerate for now, and exhaled. "Indeed, I cannot."

 


	2. SESSION 00-1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is a quick chapter before my next update!  
> Life is so hectic to post the rest, and I need time to edit.  
> *blah*
> 
> Song: llysb (Stripped) by LANY  
> Warning: Awkwardness
> 
> ~X

 

> **SESSION 00-1**

The birds chirped and the bright rays shined through the blinds, illuminating the rooms and signaling a new day. If Jim wanted to be super sentimental, he could say that today was the first milestone towards recovering whatever this was. A part of him should have been excited, except he grew scared at the thought.

 

This all could shatter from something as random like Jim tripping on himself again, or by him pressing on his temples in agony, his whole body falling down to the floor, trying his best to hold in a cry.

It was saddening to see that their heavily established level of strength of the other altered significantly, simply because Spock believed he saw how fragile Jim could be. It was absurd, considering how many times Spock witnessed Jim plastered on a biobed, bleeding from his wounds beforehand.

 

If Jim was asked, he would say that last night was the biggest display of fragility he's ever shown Spock. He's been alone before, and he didn't desire to return to that.

 

A loud exhale was kept behind his shut lips as he stared at his PADD, showing the morning’s breakfast recipe in one hand and a mug in the other. The green onions and tomatoes, scrambled with tofu and various seasoning popped on the pan, sizzling and crackling, all while Jim made careful sure he was doing this right, still trying to get a hang of the whole diet change.

There wasn’t any Starfleet related work to be done for him today, especially since he buried himself in HQ all yesterday. He informed the team that he would be on call. He trusted them to look everything over … it wasn’t like Novelli’s crew would set fire to the USS Cybele.

 

It wasn't like the USS Cybele would be demolished by a hostile alien species, stuck on an unclassified alien planet ... or anything. He shook it into his head that nothing would happen, and solely concentrated on how Koka and Jai were phenomenal pilots.

 

Phenomenal.

 

“I could reschedule.”

 

There weren't any _‘good mornings’_ of the kind, just a condescending suggestion, once again taking the initiative to analyze the emotion Jim wasn’t displaying or saying willingly.

 

Key Word #1: **Displaying**.

 

Key Word #2: **Willingly**.

 

And so, he never took his eyes off the bright screen, letting the aroma of the coffee drown the scent of their breakfast dancing around the kitchen. “That would be unprecedented. Dr. Ch'zothon might think we chickened out."

“You are the one emitting heightened levels of anxiety, which in your case, causes a lack of progress.” Spock said, already dressed before Jim. "It is logical to begin when you are ready.”

There was a time when they would get ready together, thus this making Jim feel out of place in his T-Shirt and shorts.

“All you need is ask – “ Spock was making his assumptions, not bothering to clarify again, and the accusatory tone of it irked Jim the wrong way. 

“It’s probably you.” Jim interjected, taking an agonizingly slow sip of his drink. “It’s not like I can tell the difference. It’s not like I’m _capable_. Perhaps you're the one that wants to stall the inevitable."

“I am assuring you that although I may be the cause, I am not directly influencing your emotions.” The words came out like a reprimand, making Jim feel small. “They belong to you. I will never alter them to my advantage.”

“Not deliberately at least.”

 

The words sprinted off Jim’s tongue, slapping Spock with the crudeness of it. The times their connection swung off its equilibrium were not any of their faults, however Jim took the fault for this the second he propelled those words towards Spock. Again.

He cursed under his tongue, fully expecting Spock to just walk away from the awkward atmosphere, retreating to his ‘own’ room.

There were invisible hands choking on his throat, playing with each squeeze, transferring the message that he was the weaker one.

The second of hurt that flashed on Spock’s normally calm demeanor made those hands resume their torture.

If these outbursts continued, Jim would get a muzzle for himself to give them mercy.

 

Spock’s sigh was a deep one, “Good morning, Jim.” He said, putting away his devices and leaning on the counter with arms crossed.

 

Was this an alternate reality?

Was this a joke?

Was this a way to persecute him?

 

Before Jim could ask him ‘ _What the hell?’_ he felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. All of the hurt he’d inflicted just went poof.

Correction, they were being blocked.

By doing this and ignoring the devices for the moment, Spock was removing distractions between them and glued his eyes on Jim.

Despite the evil relief of it, Jim cringed. This wasn’t in any way healthy for Spock. It was a temporary bandage to a puncture wound, a poor excuse of something permanent.

Spock was giving Jim a chance to forget their exchanged jibes.

 

“Good morning.” Jim repeated with a caught cough, reflecting Spock by putting his own stuff on the marble surfaces.

 

He watched Spock smoothly step forward, move the pan away from the heat and stir the food. Naturally, Jim took to putting their beverages and utensils on the table.

The meal was separated into both bowls by Spock’s hand, and they sat across from the other on their small circular table.

This would be the time when they would inform the other of their schedules. It was something they always endeavores to memorize before, but it was likely that small changes would take place throughout the day, throwing the whole thing a little off.

Of course Jim had nothing to add this time, but Spock could have. He was still easing his way out of the break he took since the incident, in which most of the lessons and assignments were completed online. As Spock continued with those, he would have his tri-weekly video comm conferences with the Vulcan board of education, the very people he worked with when he was there.

Jim was well aware that politics were involved, except Spock never spoke of it. He used to believe that Spock was just  being humble (which he never was - out of the sheer illogic of concealing achievements) however he was starting to consider that Spock avoided the topic because it was one that could easily branch into Spock's possible permanent settlement. Politics were scarier than education, hence it being the only work related topic they spoke of.

Jim could tell that Spock wanted to go back.

Spock even offered that Jim should come with him for the upcoming trip so that they were not separated.

Regrettably, Jim said ‘no’, and he had his reasons. Maybe one day.

Just not now…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~X


	3. SESSION 01

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
> Note: I changed Ryhr Ch'zothon's origin.  
> Song: Haunt by ECHOS
> 
> ~X

**SESSION 01**

The pale Betazoid stared at them with his grey, empty eyes and the creepiest smile Jim's ever seen. Ryhr Ch'zothon tilted his abnormally thin, rectangular head, tapping his lap, his raven like braided mane lightly moving to his side. "You do not wish to be here."

Jim blinked, realizing a couple seconds too late that the statement was directed towards Spock.

"This is a little weird for both of us." Jim responded for Spock, sitting a thigh away from him and across from Ryhr.

"What I mean is that Mr. Spock believes this to be beneath him." Ryhr said without a hint of uncertainty, fully confident in his observation.

Jim would have snorted if he weren't so anxious already. Spock's stunned face and Ryhr's lifted dark brow was enough confirmation that Jim's assumption was correct.

He knew that Spock was reluctant in sharing his feelings and his recent struggles with his relationship to another person that didn't have any relations with them. It was one of the reasons Jim held back on it for so long. Obviously there was a 'pride' aspect to it.

_Illogical, my ass._

"I recognize that there is much accommodation required in this unique situation." Spock simple replied, keeping his composure, although Jim could feel the indignation a mile away. It was one of the easiest things for Jim to comprehend ... and other stuff.

Jim coughed, and Spock continued, "Therefore, nothing is beneath me, hence my willing attendance."

 

Jim wanted to smile in approval, but he realized that there wouldn't be any use in a room with these two.

"That is your reason speaking. I am referring to your _feelings_ , Mr. Spock." Ryhr retorted, not satisfied in Spock's answer apparently, "I am going to assume that you have meditated in preparation for this meeting, however you must acknowledge that I can assess various emotions successfully with or without my abilities, as I have been trained to notice them. In my office, we will work around our words and not cower from our beliefs. We will bring them to the surface and expose them for what they are. The conclusion will be either reunification or a permanent divide."

 

The flinch that came from both Jim and Spock was enough evidence for Ryhr. Jim briefly wondered if it would be rude to puke on this polished crystal floor.

Thinking of the worst-case scenario was one thing.

Hearing Spock speak of it was worse. Hearing the possibility from someone he's never met poured the realism in concrete.

 

"With that aside, I will state that I agree. Those whom enter my office are here to seek out clarity in their union." Ryhr continued, darting his eyes to Jim in warning. "Our sessions will begin separately. Upon my diagnoses, we will continue together. That is only if our primary objective appears … reasonable."

 

In translation – if they were too far-gone, Ryhr wouldn't bother.

Great.

 

"You will be discreet in all that is discussed here, right?" Jim asked, looking like he was about to jump into an active volcano.

The stare Ryhr gave them was a clear indicator that the query was an insult. The look he received from Spock was close to a ' _Really, Jim?'_

At least he didn't have to worry about that.

**.**

**.**

**.**

"You know he can still hear us." Jim informed with a grouch, crossing both his arms.

Ryhr responded, tapping onto his notepad and thankfully not a PADD. "That is why I requested that he return home."

He should have fucking known. "Oh."

"Your bond should have made you aware of the distance." The concern was evident with Ryhr, whom was trying to assemble the image of what this relationship was.

Jim didn't even know how to explain. "There are days I can tell. It depends really – "

"Are there triggers?"

"Sometimes… It's either work, yelling …work." It was a pathetic answer, if anything.

"Stress can be a contributing factor."

"Yeah … it shifts." He almost croaked out. He patted his chest in a low fit of coughs. At this point, Ryhr must have assumed Jim was sick.

"Would you prefer to refer to the spontaneous influx of sensation as a _flare_?'"

Perfect, actually. "I've used that term a few times, so yes."

 

This session was going okay so far. This would probably be like a slow descend instead of a blunt impact. He's never entertained these sorts of things. Not when he was a teenager or when he was a Captain.

Who knew that there would be a day when he actually asked…

 

"Mr. Kirk," This piqued Jim's attention. "When your bondmate contacted me, he has informed me that you were the one to bring up this idea."

"It's what people do, right? I mean, I didn't grow up around what you would consider 'healthy' relationships, but I figured that when things aren't going so well, it's something that has to be done." For Spock, at least.

"Do you have an idea as to why he chose me?"

 

Jim knew all too well. He read on the file Spock presented to him. Apparently Ryhr was one to be watched for in this field. Ryhr utilized his empathy to assist as many human unions, marriages as he could. Unlike many other species, humans either never practiced monogamy or treated monogamy as the most sacred of companionship, and mainly still resulting in separation.

Humans were different on every scale because there was no specificity by moral or biological requirements. All or none were practiced. Permanent monogamy however was becoming almost non-existent. 

Marriage became a joke to many, held on to a few, so Ryhr utilized his abilities to promote communication, rigorously studying human interactions, eventually building up clientele and an exemplary reputation.

He observed more than a human counselor could and with his particular tools, he could relate to Spock's problems without the Vulcan limitations of not comprehending the emotion and struggle in the rare union.

"I have an idea." Jim said instead of explaining it all.

 

Ryhr nodded, taking a moment to himself, wiping the bottom of his chin with a finger. "It is interesting and also sad. Terrans struggle with discovering compatibility without the required keen senses. You all ultimately decide to choose a partner by relying on chance. By momentary spikes in emotion."

The need to defend himself kicked in. "Some might call it love, you know. I wouldn't call it a spike either."

"So is it consistent then? This love you have for Mr. Spock?"

"Yes, but – "

"Some would call it a chemical reaction, not a physical manifestation in the mind, anchoring one to the other." Ryhr interjected as if he didn't hear Jim, when his job description was to hear people. "All that is fusing them together is comfort, this love, that can dissipate at any moment by the way, and for a few, a mere document representing their union."

Jim gave up bothering to hold in his scoff. "So as a species, we're screwed. Is that your conclusion, Dr. Ch'zothon?"

"My conclusion is that nature is against those that wish to remain with one partner for a lifetime." He was speaking of humans. "It is no longer the common practice. With all the complications that arise, there is a lack of fight since all that began this union was chance. Everything is asked with _'What if?',_ causing doubt. You do not have the reassurances we do, hence why eighty-nine percent of them fail."

"I know, I know that's not the case with us." Jim leaned further back into his cushion, like he could find an escape behind the wall. "There is no chance, or _'what if?'_ If it comes to the worst, we'll be tolerating for second best for the rest of our lives. It may be ... simpler, but it's not what's meant for us. So if you and I are going to talk, don't reduce what we are." _Please_.

"I am aware, however it is a bond that is _naked_." The last word was said with a snap of his fingers. "A bond that is sparking thoughts like a bare neuron, something that your human mind is not capable of handling. Some days you are blind, and some days, you see all too much. I may feel your anxiety, however I cannot begin to image the outcome."

Jim gulped, licking his bottom lips. "I thought … I thought I could handle it."

"And when did you know that it would be more complicated than expected."

Shit, there were so many little clues. "Damn. It's so long ago."

"Then let us start from the beginning, before the bond. How and when did your affections come to be?"

Thinking back on several moments, Jim couldn't believe how cliché him and Spock were. "There wasn't an exact time…" He said, fumbling his fingers on the burgundy couch in the suite-like office of the eighty-story building.

"There is always one. Something must have shifted to bring upon the realization that there was something more."

Jim could still see Spock standing in his quarters as the crew began their individual preparations to arrive on Starbase One. It was the end of their mission and what Spock announced to him shouldn't have shocked him, except it did.

It shocked him to the core.

"I realized that our moments together would be reduced to a few visits a year, if not annually. The entirety of my anxiousness was irrational because this applied to most of my former crew."

"Mr. Spock's absence was intolerable in your eyes."

Jim nodded, exhaling through his nose. "But it was tolerable to him at the time."

"At the time." Ryhr repeated, leaning forward. "Is this true to you now?"

"Of course not. Although he did wish to foresee the developments on New Vulcan, he didn't want us to be separated too. He wouldn't have come back then…"

"He does go back time to time, though."

"Yea."

"So tell me, how did you respond to Mr. Spock's expected announcement when you were unaware of your affections?"

"… I wished him luck." The cry ripped out of him two weeks after Spock's shuttle disengaged. He could feel it right now – the totally abrupt overload in the middle of his simplest task. "I was fine for a time."

Ryhr squinted his eyes, "The reality of it caused a delayed reaction. That is when you acknowledged your feelings."

"Yeah … and I confessed in the most impulsive way possible." Jim said, shaking his head at his past rash actions. "I never actually said the words, but he knew. I mean … he must have."

"I see." It was an expression that many used to express their understanding, however Jim noticed that when Ryhr said it, he literally saw.

He saw Jim's pain.

.

.

.

_[We all promised each other that we would take a break. Guess you're not surprised that Uhura's teaching a small unit in South Africa – which I guess could be considered a vacation, since I said 'travel', not 'take a vacation'. Good for her though, 'cause Decker's speaking highly of her, so he might steal her one-day. Don't tell her I said that._

_At least little Chekov is reminding himself of his age, which we all approved of. Bones started sending these videos. You have to watch them with me. Ummm... Sulu's putting everything into his family too. Ben's a really sweet guy. You should meet him. Perhaps do more than that weird nod you like to do to strangers._

_No offense._

_… Scott called me. He's working on a new project, and he won't spit out one measly detail. He guarantees that this is his definition of fun. Now that's a loophole without any thought put into it._

_I could go on and on._

_It's just … the point of this message is – I submitted my application way sooner than I expected. When it came down to it, I couldn't commit to my own promise. Everyone is moving on, and while they are a part of Starfleet, it is not all they are. These days alone after my obligatory post mission duties just showed me that it's all I am. How freakin' sad is that? I mean, what am I supposed to do? I can't think of a single thing.]_

**_._ **

**_._ **

**_._ **

"Mr. Kirk has mentioned a recording to me," Dr. Ch'zothon began the session, causing Spock to gulp in the spot. He was supposed to keep his composure, and yet this being did what McCoy would call 'ripping off the bandage' "Before you say, Mr. Kirk gave me permission to share this with you."

"There is only one recording to which you speak of with relevance to our situation."

"With your eidetic memory, I am sure you recall every word."

"Affirmative." He answered.

"But do you remember in which way they were expressed?" Dr. Ch'zothon inquired, testing Spock in some way.

"Of course."

"The hopelessness?"

Spock agreed.

"The yearning?"

Where was Dr. Ch'zothon going with this? "State your point."

"Was it all a shock to you?"

"It took time to adjust..."

"Did the audio message become a catalyst of the like?"

"No." Spock denied, "I have long come to peace with my affections."

 

Till this day, Spock wondered what it was that pulled Jim to call and say such poignant words. It was beyond what the standard of friendship would deem appropriate.

 

"Then why have you neglected to inform Mr. Kirk prior to your departure, preventing this incident altogether?"

"My first voyage to New Vulcan was imperative at the time. I had prolonged it enough. Also, I could not conclude his feelings with accuracy. I assumed my affections were unrequited – "

"Why?"

"As a Betazoid, you should understand a portion of my complications."

"Nonetheless, I require hearing you say the words. I hope you did not call me because I would be _easy_ to you." Dr. Ch'zothon tsked, "This is where your err begins, for you assume telepathically transferred emotions are equivalent to words." Dr. Ch'zothon scolded him in a manner identical to his father - Blunt and executed with a blank face. "When one speaks, it a reflection of their _organized_ thoughts. Not on all occasions, but very often, a filter is placed, and also one is forced to deliberate what has crossed their mind properly."

 

_"That's not what I meant. How do I know that's what you mean either? I can't just jump into your head at will, can I? Fucking shit, Spock."_

 

There was no rebuttal, because Dr. Ch'zothon was correct. Spock acknowledged too late that this was one of their many issues. It was not helpful that he acted on Jim's concealed emotions again this very morning. He had to rectify his actions and intercept where the conversation would have easily went.

 

"Now, I will ask you again." Dr. Ch'zothon nudged his head, ignoring his PADD. "Why did you assume your affections to be unrequited?"

This was the first session.

The very first, Spock reminded himself.

Obviously Spock sought out the best, except he never expected to be caught speechless in their first conversation. He would not lie, for that would be an action that would symbolize that his pride was worth more than salvaging what he had with Jim.

"It is clear that I have failed in my deduction." He answered, trying to not look elsewhere.

"Here is my theory, interrupt me if I am incorrect." Dr. Ch'zothon pressed his two right fingers onto his temples and shut his eyes. "You relied too heavily on your telepathy, and since Mr. Kirk is a human, you refused to believe what transferred accordingly, translating it into mere fondness. You rarely touched him for fear of what would seep through. You have abandoned all your teachings of human expressions and body language to deduce otherwise. You were treating him as if he were Vulcan – As if this connection could be affirmed without doubt, in a way you could easily discern, when humans operate completely differently. Humans take risks with what they have."

"I abhor risks." Risks left one too vulnerable. It was imperative that Spock be in one piece, so that he could face his people on New Vulcan. He needed to be a symbol of strength.

"And it almost cost you your bondmate." Dr. Ch'zothon concluded without hesitation. "Mr. Kirk remains with you, so you must have improved on this a considerable amount – however, your presence here shows that there is much improvement needed."

"It is not just I." There were times Jim barely gave Spock a chance to explain, not bothering to learn, offense clouding their discussions.

"Human limitations can be a strain, I agree with you. Have you spoken to someone that you can empathize with? Someone similar to yourself?"

"My parents' former union is common knowledge. All I know of is my father." And he would have known of another if he did not pass away so soon. Although Spock presented his father as an option, he was unlikely to share his troubles with the man.

"There are numerous individuals of interspecific unions that you can connect with. Granted, those with telepathy are incredibly rare, but I can extend some contact information."

Spock was not ready for that now, nor was Jim. "I will keep this in mind."

"How about your father? Explain his opinion on the matter. Was he in support of your relationship with your Captain? You were close to another human, so this must not have caused surprise."

"With each visit, he endeavors to express his uninvited opinion. This has been true with Nyota, and so it is true with Jim. He warns me of the illogical union and its inevitable trepidation."

"The hypocrisy must not have escaped you."

 

It summed up Spock's confusion when Sarek's discontentment first tapped through. His father did not consider Nyota's accomplishments, confident assertiveness or her beauty. Sarek was not one to catch Spock off guard, always accurately predicting his father's reaction, and yet it happened.

With Jim, Spock expected Sarek to mention how Jim ruthlessly pestered into Spock's guarded emotions. Spock was prepared for his father's dislike of Jim based on that, excluding all of Jim's honorable characteristics, except all Sarek said was _'He is human.'_

"I addressed it. His explanation was that his warning was education on matters not yet documented. He entered his bond blindly. His caution is to be heeded above all. He does not wish for me to suffer the consequences, neither should Jim."

In Sarek's perspective, Spock was committing a crime – that one should not hurt another, that one should not hurt themselves, and that was precisely what Spock as doing.

 

"Think back to your childhood, Mr. Spock. Did your late mother seem to be suffering?"

Whenever his mother said 'I'm okay' in the past, he believed her. Now that he lived in Terra and was exposed to the behavior of Terrans, the meaning of 'I'm okay' differed depending on the speaker, mainly utilized as an evasive technique. He remembered how she would bury herself in her work, monotonously speak to Sarek at times, and just outright keep silent – for reasons he was oblivious to as he grew up. Spock always saw his mother as a woman that blended in perfectly, no different than another Vulcan but in appearance alone.

' _Stupid'_ was the perfect word to describe his lack of understanding.

"I have not understood it before." Spock answered, "I was naïve, sheltered and gullible. Everything appeared to be … satisfactory."

Dr. Ch'zothon hummed, "And now?"

"I know more than ever that my mother was a warrior."

"And your father?"

It was self-explanatory. "He endured a deformed bond. There is nothing more to say."

"So why do you choose to continue this deformed bond, Mr. Spock." Dr. Ch'zothon asked after a pause. "It is young and therefore the possibility of removal remains. Mr. Kirk is not capable of fully satisfying your needs, no matter his pure intentions."

There would always be consequences, risks, and poking emptiness if they acted on that. Besides the obvious, he feared that it would be the biggest mistake of his life. "Because as deformed as it is, I cannot continue without it." And it was the truth.

"You know that logically, you should release Mr. Kirk."

"My father could have done the same."

The subtle surprise showed on Dr. Ch'zothon's face. He was not expecting Spock's willingness to reply to that at all. It was apparent that he expected some form of resistance. "And why do you think your father decided against it?" He pushed.

"For the same reason I do now. My bondmate will not accept it, especially if it is for his sake." Spock confessed, his voice lowering. "I recognize now that it was my mother's will to stay that compelled my father to ultimately decide to continue."

"It is a path your father wants you to escape from before the choice is taken away from you."

"It appears so."

"Mr. Spock … " There was a subtle clearing of the throat, "What you are defining to me is severe codependency." Dr. Ch'zothon translation was simple. This union was not a healthy one.

.

.

.

_[I'm sure there are new people in your life. You also have your father around you more often. It … it must be nice. I wish I could say that I'm feeling the same. The truth is, I'm not._

_I'm not, and I think it's because I miss you._

_Out of all our exchanged messages and videos, we never once shared that._

_I never say I want to see you. Why is that, Spock? Just because we don't see each other, shouldn't mean we should hide things. If we hide things ... then our conversations get shorter.  
_

_Then it lacks substance._

_Then you won't want to call me anymore._

_Then we'll refer to each other as old colleagues, people that shared only history._

_And you're not just my history._

_You're my friend._

_So just ... please tell me you miss me too.]_


	4. SESSION 00-2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A wonderful reader ‘phelml7’ said that my writing is very emotive and not maudlin.  
> Warning: Maudlin material lol - so sorry!  
> Song: Stay by Ember Island  
> Warning: A blast to the past.  
> ~X

**SESSION 00-2**

Magnetic.

Captivating.

Enchanting.

 

Pre-bond, each term that properly described how they couldn’t keep their hands off the other was hyperbolic, and so accurate; Jim wondered how he’d been without it his whole life. For a year, he trudged in his silent home, resorting to random one night stands to obtain a fraction of this.

It was the definition of unfortunate when Jim realized that it was temporary. Considering everything and all the newly acquired knowledge, maybe it was magnetic on Jim’s part, becoming barely passable for Spock.

 

Long fingers would paint Jim, owning the canvas of his skin, as he gasping and grabbing what he could to keep some sort of composure. These efforts became obsolete, as Spock would tease his ear lobes, nuzzling on his jugular while they were both tangled in layers of sheets.

It was a literal chill up his spine, witnessing Spock - the Spock that unlocked emotions untapped, the Spock that would cause him to fluster from their simplest of conversations, this Spock whom sincerely enjoyed Jim’s company - sliding down Jim’s body with an open needy mouth. The sensation remained just as powerful when they would sneak in a shower together before dispersing for their hectic and attention sucking days. It fluttered with that very power when they cuddled on the living room floor near the other, discussing their newest work developments.

 

Spock always knew of Jim’s physical wants before he even knew it himself. Empathy for Vulcans weren’t prominent unless around other powerful telepathic beings, and it could only become more prominent once their was an established bond to their bonded one, or as Jim came to learn to be called ‘ _telsu_ ’.

Being so used to the touches, letting Spock have access to his internal rambling at will, and at his demand, was a privilege. On his end, Spock was mainly mute. 

 

Pre-bond, his limited human mind thought this to be a minor issue, for he knew Spock. He trusted Spock. He didn’t necessarily need these extras. He lived without telepathic connections his whole life and wouldn’t cry about it now. There was also the expectation that this would be resolved when they established their bond.

He was right. Post-bond, although it fluctuated and consistency was a gift, the things he heard from Spock were affirmations he didn’t need, but made him melt all the same.

 

A kiss on a rib – Spock loved him.

A shared kiss that continued on and on, exchanging air and undignified moans – Spock fucking thought every pore and mole on Jim’s skin was prepossessing.

A bite of a rouged nipple – Spock wanted to devour him and adopt the theological mentality of eternity, so he could cling on for the infinite duration.

Both palms imprinting on his thighs as they were held onto, so that Spock could move further inside him, - Spock’s disbelief of it all rang through.

The shudders igniting through him, riding it through with his hands around Spock’s throat, watching, freakin’ _feeling_ it course in Spock too, a mutual pleasure that is a rarity in his life – God, Spock really, really loved him.

 

Post-bond, although it fluctuated and consistency was a gift, the things he heard from Spock were affirmations he didn’t need, but made him want to crumble all the same. These extras that Jim spoke of were imperative to Spock. 

_‘Do you hear me?_ ’ - It was the question that began their descend.

 _‘You didn't say anything, Spock.’_ – That was the laughing response that kicked their fall into full gear.

Spock stared at him from across the table, blinking as if Jim was going in and out of existence. Jim bit into his sandwich with one hand and quickly typed into the other with a smile, preparing for his meeting, oblivious to Spock’s inner turmoil of the discovery.

 

Post-bond, Spock was still mute on some days, and apparently that’s not how things were supposed to go. Like he said, he didn’t require more for he already knew Spock. He could admit that he missed them at times, remembering in the next second that he was grateful for the ignorance feeding silence.

This was because when he heard Spock, it was a bare faint, mainly the emotions sinking through. Days when he could hear thoughts plus emotions, Jim craved to shove his own brain in the garbage disposal, desperate to hear the churning of the pink and crimson battered tissue. Again, not the way things were supposed to go. 

The changes within specific living arrangements brought up a few issues that they knew had to be dealt with, except how was Jim supposed to mention them when Spock would lay down beside him, feeling empty inside? Everything else seemed so ... trivial.

 

Sex.

Coition.

Fucking.

 

It had many faces, and each one was visited. It could be slow, bringing careful attention to one’s needs, never steering away from reactions and responses.

It could still be slow, with more desperation on the surface, placing all emotion, including the uninvited ones on the exterior, using it as fuel to conquer, posses and mark.

It could be done in the blink of an eye, on any random surface, a couple of quick calculated moves to bring physical completion.

 

Sex was pleasure delivered to all senses, including the mind – and that was a field Jim lacked on significantly. 

 

A kiss on a rib – Spock wanted to light up both ends of their link, mainly failing after a hint of success was shown, nature being the fiendish bitch she was.

A shared kiss that continued on and on, exchanging air and undignified moans – Spock solely concentrated on his bodily sensations, and bringing the most out of Jim.

A bite of a rouged nipple – Spock wanted to devour him because was no eternity, only the known fact that Spock would see more of it than Jim, all alone in the end. Spock wanted to cling on in order to forget the limitations they had, actively ignoring the lack of stimulation to his mind, thriving off of Jim’s emotions and thoughts, not bothering to care that his were barely heard in return, if at all.

Both palms imprinting on his thighs as they were held onto, so that Spock could move further inside him, - Spock’s total disbelief of it all rang through.

The shudders igniting through him, riding it through with his hands around Spock’s throat, watching, freakin’ feeling it _not_ course in Spock too – God, Jim realized that there was nothing he could do.

**.**

**.**

**.**

_“Harder.” Jim demanded with both his wrists locked by Spock’s hand above him. “Don’t be a wuss about it, Spock.” Please._

_He was panting under Spock, his head flung back with his eyes shut. This way, he could ignore the rigid halt of Spock’s movements, and avoid the frozen expression._

_“I mean, it only makes sense to … practice.” He rasped out, trying to somewhat convey the fact that he was giving Spock a way to fulfill some desires, if not the ones related to his telepathy. Spock couldn’t let go in their intimacy, at least not fully, always careful to not injure Jim. There was also the underlying fact that realistically, they had to speak of what could transpire between them in the future if nature was keen on still being that bitch._

 

_Spock only talked about it once, disappeared for two days and was stunned that Jim decided that if it came to that, they would come out the other side thriving.  
_

_He could feel Spock wanting to retreat again from his suggestion. Jim didn't need a bond to acknowledge that. As he said, he knew Spock and six years of friendship was more than enough data to refer to.  
_

_Some sick part of him wanted Spock to just do it -  to bruise him, bite him and draw blood if need be. He wanted Spock to forget the fact that Jim had a refractory period, that way he could be used again and again. Jim was at the pathetic point of doing anything for him, making a way for him to get something out of this, because this was nearing on perpetual torment._

_Jim couldn’t even take off a shirt until Spock was totally mute, and that was sickening, watching himself be tolerated in his lover's eyes. It was a kid’s wish, but he wanted it like how it used to be._

_"Times like this, I wish I could order you," Jim blurted out._

_Spock squinted, his eyes dark and petrified simultaneously. His chest was rising at faster rates, and Jim could hear Spock’s heart. For a reason beyond Jim, these very words always rocked Spock out of his stupor. He wasn't Spock's Captain anymore, and this response was somehow possible.  
_

_He felt horrible for doing this._

_Spock swallowed, “Jim – “_

_“Forget my pain. Choke me. Break me, for fuck's sake,” Spock wasn’t a sadist by any means, but if there was something Jim didn’t know, he yearned for it to be aired out. He was uttering out the worst, knowing that he would do that and whatever lurked in between._

_Spock let go of Jim, with wider eyes, sitting up on his knees and away from Jim like he burned. “Stop this.” He choked out, his entire torso flushed olive all the way down to his throbbing and unattended organ.  
_

_“Then why’re we doing this?” Jim asked, directing his gaze to his lower body, slowly inching back from Spock. “You’re getting nothing from this – “  
_

_“Your pleasure is also mine,” Spock slowly leaned further with caution, fisting the blankets on each side of Jim's body. He was trying to rest his forehead on Jim’s._

_The opportunity didn’t present itself since Jim turned away, filling his lungs. “That’s not okay for you – “_

_“It is. You are devaluing what we have.” Spock moved his hand to grasp Jim’s chin, directing their faces together. “You are everything to me.” He announced with clenched teeth, looking at Jim like he would disappear again._

_Jim wanted him to stop doing that._

_It was no longer endearing, morphing on frightening._

_“You’re lying.” Jim admitted in the straightest face he could muster. He took one of the things Spock took great pride in and slapped him in the face with it, for Spock has never lied to him. Not on the ship, and not during their stay on Earth. “I’m not enough for what’s in your head – “_

_“You are enough for my heart.” Spock interrupted sternly, holding Jim’s face tighter, urging him to listen. “There is nothing you need to be absolved from. You. Are. Enough." Spock was more saddened than annoyed, endeavoring to deflect from the severity of their problems. "How many times do you wish for me to say this, Jim? Is every morning sufficient for you? In every call? If you require to hear it from me every hour, I will do it."_

_Jim would have laughed from the absurdity of it all if he didn't notice the seriousness in Spock's offering. Whereas Jim could use hyperbolic expressions and terms, Spock wasn't one to do that.  
_

_“I want you to come to your senses and realize that it won’t be enough forever. I literally feel your void, dammit." His eyes were beginning to water, detesting how easily he could be an emotional mess. “Spock, think about it...How long can you keep this up?”_

_How long could Jim? His concerns weren't fallacious, and Spock was making them appear to be.  
_

_Warm hands were placed on Jim’s cheeks, Spock tilting his head to deliver a kiss that was hard and wet - more of a statement instead of a loving gesture, an acceptance of a challenge._

_It was incredibly wrong, for love wasn’t meant to be some challenge. It was supposed to be ‘magnetic’, ‘captivating’ and ‘enchanting’. Heck, ‘mundane’ would have been okay right about now._

 

_Could they just have 'normal'?_


	5. SESSION 02

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another session.
> 
> ~X

**SESSION 02**

 Ryhr wished to assess the issues that were outside of their bond to see how hopeless this was.

“God, there’s so many.” Jim began, grimacing at the memories. “It started with unexpected things that didn’t seem to have any importance back then.” Spock and him lived together for years, floated through undiscovered space together, hence his confidence of sharing the same space.

 “When you two decided to occupy a home together, it was not with cluelessness.” Ryhr deduced, his pointy chin resting on his skinny fingers.

“We weren’t ignorant to our quirks. There wasn’t anything new to discover.” Especially since they met in Jim’s quarters after most shifts.

“Again, the problem derived from your underestimation.”

“Spock underestimated it too. Not just me.” If anything, Spock was the one that just let Jim jump into this with an ignorant heart.

“Tell me of his quirks.”

“I guess I’ll begin with ‘temperature’.” Jim heavily sighed, rubbing on his thighs to dry out the sweat from his palms. “I wouldn’t call this one a quirk. It’s more of a – “

“Common biological differences. Simple things then.”

“Oh, this seemed simple back then. I couldn’t have been more wrong.”

**.**

**.**

**.**

Spock listened to the clock in the end of the room, feeling a little faint. “Whenever I would visit Jim’s quarters for our nightly chess matches, he would increase the temperature to my preferences prior to my attendance."

“How did Mr. Kirk’s gesture affect you?”

“…” Spock swallowed; assuming the drop in his stomach was answer enough.

“Please answer the question, Mr. Spock. Our sessions will not consist heavily on my empathy. They will in my observations, but not our communication.”

It would spare Spock if that was the case. Regardless, it was his fault to assume that things would be easy. Counseling was not meant to be easy; otherwise there would never be any discoveries or new enlightenment in the process.

He mainly chose Dr. Ryhr Ch'zothon because there were many reviews in his favor, and the background check came clean. He was a doctor in excessive demand.

Spock has read that all people had to do in these sessions were to primarily win over the counselor by saying what one wanted to hear. It was the illusion of success. In this situation, such a scenario was impossible.

Lies or omissions did not have a slither of chance.

Dr. Ch'zothon tapped the top of his notepad, probably filled with dozens of scratches on the surface. “Did you request that he cease his actions?”

“I was enabling this behavior by not speaking of it. I found it … endearing.” The term barely did his feelings justice.

Dr. Ch'zothon did not mention it for now, “Because it was out of his own volition.”

“Affirmative.”

“Did any other human exhibit identical behavior around you? Considering your years in Starfleet, someone must have.”

There was one. “Nyota Uhura.”

“Ah.” Dr. Ch'zothon wrote it down, knowing of the previous relationship already. “It was endearing then as well?”

“It was, however my actions thereafter were not identical.” Spock answered, counting the taps on the abused stacks of paper. “I implied that the current environment was satisfactory.”

“You implied satisfactory when you truly meant tolerable.” Ch'zothon observed, never stuttering or doubting his assumptions. “Why speak to Ms. Uhura instead of Mr. Kirk?”

There was one small difference. “Because she asked.”

“So naturally, you responded by stating that she refrain from any attempts to accommodate you.”

That was correct. “My body has adapted to the temperature and gravity of the Enterprise. There was no reason to accept the new development when Nyota could be bothered. I did not intend to find out.”

“Do you hear the contradiction in your words?”

Spock wanted to clear his throat, “Clearly.”

“So think of how Ms. Uhura and Mr. Kirk differed in regards to this simple gesture.” Dr. Ch'zothon asked, tilting his head, blinking a few more times than necessary.

Spock has asked himself the same, so much that this was the easiest thing to answer so far. “Nyota was leaving a window, showing uncertainty despite the comforts of our relationship.”

“And Mr. Kirk?”

He could imagine Jim scoffing with pride, “There was no window.” Spock admitted, “I was waiting for one. I was waiting for… years, and it never opened.” He said. “One evening, I made it my objective to open it, and he closed it with a rather rude statement.”

“And what was that, may I ask.”

Jim turned around with an index finger high, the moment he heard his name from Spock. It was a sign, stating that Spock had to immediately close his mouth. “He expressively demanded that I _‘shut up’_.”

**.**

**.**

**.**

“After that stupid message, we communicated some more. It wasn’t just some façade between us. We didn’t bother hiding the fact that we wanted to see each other more often. We respected that we had our duties, and in a way – getting that all out made it easier.” A sigh escaped Jim as he said this.

“You had yet to say you loved him.” Ryhr noticed the one missing thing in Jim’s story.

Jim shook his head, “No, not yet.”

“You mentioned that there was no façade. That you didn’t wear a mask.” Ryhr said, “Did you believe that saying the words would be redundant at this point?”

“I wouldn’t say so. Actions are worth more than words, but that doesn’t mean they don’t have worth at all.”

A hint of a smile of emerged on Ryhr’s face. “Interesting.”

“So yeah … when he returned, I just blurted out that he should stay with me. His visit was supposed to be a short one, so I thought … why not?”

“And you endeavored to make your home as comfortable as possible. Just like your quarters.”

“Hell yes.” In Jim’s mind, it wasn’t a significant change. It really, really wasn’t supposed to be.

**.**

**.**

**.**

Nervousness flooded Spock’s system when he finally settled with the fact that he would share a space with Jim without the shield of duty. “By Jim’s logic, it was absurd to have to tolerate Terran temperatures and those in facilities throughout the day, only to come home and continue to do so in the comforts of my own home, let alone my own bed.” These were Jim’s words.

“And was he correct in this?” Dr. Ch'zothon inquired, the endearments of the words still resonating between them.

“We were not bonded at the time, and yet, it was the precise echo of how I felt.”

“The element of surprise seems to be very common with Mr. Kirk.”

“It is continuous.” And Spock believed it would be for as long as they were acquainted with each other.

  **.**

**.**

**.**

The temperature of Jim’s home was to Spock’s preferences, not giving Spock a second of leeway to change his mind. The only part Jim didn’t adjust was his room.

“I know I need to sleep in colder temperatures. I also prefer heavy blankets. It doesn’t make sense, but it’s how I’ve slept my whole life. We never even shared a room during shore leave, and that was if he participated in shore leave, so this dilemma never occurred.”

“You have made your home Spock’s domain. You have done this with ease. Was it because his company excited you? Was it a distraction of your loneliness?” Ryhr eerily pointed out, “No, dare I say, a solution?”

“That obvious?”

“Vividly.”

**.**

**.**

**.**

“Explain the first night you slept in the same bed.”

It did not occur because of the most obvious reason. In fact, the events that transpired were unexpected. “It was a unique evening. Jim requested my immediate return to the house, thus putting my schedule on hold. I had just concluded my second and final class for the day, however I had to cancel my meeting with the Academy board.”

“What was the reason for Jim’s abnormal behavior?”

“He wished to announce the ship him and his team were assigned."

“And why did this deserve urgent attention?”

“Humans would call this ‘ _ranting’_ – He would have called me to do the same.” There would have been no escape from it.

“No need to explain, Mr. Spock.”

**.**

**.**

**.  
**

_[“The USS Cybele, Spock! The Cybele! Can you believe that! Like, they’re mostly composed of Walker’s favorite students.”_

_There was no greeting of any kind, only the loud exasperation of a tired, newly appointed Commodore. “I fail to see the source of your irritation, Jim.”_

_“That’s fifteen officers I can think of in the top of my head that either had drama, had sexual relations, hence more drama or had aggressive words exchanged.” Jim placated his arms wide in complete disbelief. “Who composed this roster?!”_

_“They were composed through compatibility, recommendations and availability. You know this.” Spock informed in a smooth voice, sitting down on the couch. “You were on a ship with one you perpetually called ‘Cupcake’ despite his adamant dislike for the nickname and your presence.”_

_“That’s besides the point.” Jim continued to pace across and around the room. “Honestly, Spock – the Cybele? It’ll be like watching a reality show!”_

_“I have come to discover that those are scripted. Disappointing.” The moment he said it, he was satisfied, for the response of Jim’s halted steps and confused blinks provided the distraction Jim needed._

_“Again, not the point. And Stop doing that.” Jim rolled his eyes, resuming his trudged pacing. “Back to the point, half of them hate each other. It’s a small crew as it is.”_

_“And?”_

_The inquiry caused utter bafflement. “And it could very well compromise the mission!”_

_“You have led a successful mission under those circumstances, Jim.”_

_“Please. Everyone likes me. Heck, I like everyone.”_

_“There was a time that you did not.”_

_It was clear as to what Spock was referring to. Jim did not require an extra moment to figure it out, turning around with both palms on his hips, cocking his chin up._

_“Stop right there, Spock.”_

_“I am merely providing an example of my point.”_

_“It doesn’t count ‘cause I like you now, Spock.”_

_“I am aware.” Spock admitted._

_The unexpected laugh that escaped Jim as he trod to the kitchen was meant for both their ears. Jim whispering ‘I don’t think you do,’ was not. ]_

**.**

**.**

**.  
**

Spock did not speak for two minutes and forty-three seconds. The ticks of the clock continued, and Dr. Ch'zothon’s silence was a chance to think on things. “Our conversation continued to my room as I unpacked my files and began to charge my PADD. Jim talked without pause. There was a momentary belief that he forgot my presence altogether.”

“He was confiding in you.”

“This was the first time he could do so since he returned to Terra. He once expressed his reluctance to call Leonard McCoy and I for every little thing, deeming it a waste of our time."

“And since you were already present –

“It became convenient.” Spock finished, “It was what he desired most of all. So when his fatigue took over, I did not prevent it nor did I interrupt it when he slept in my room for the first time.” He was reluctant to touch Jim without his awareness, since life and death was not dependent on it. “It was a mistake.”

“Is this the moment you noticed the affect your preferred temperature had on Mr. Kirk?”

“I always suspected an acute form of claustrophobia, especially after one of our rescue missions. He is susceptible to increased paranoia and irritation in accelerated heat.”

“Ah. Are the details of this mission relevant to this discovery?"

“A small portion. The rest is classified.”

Dr. Ch'zothon accepted it immediately, “Then share what you can, Mr. Spock.”

**_._ **

**_._ **

**_._ **

_[“Get. Me. The. Fuck. Out. Of. Here!” Jim demanded through the comm._

_“Captain, we will arrive in twenty point six minutes. I ask that you remain patient and refrain from barging the door, further provoking your captures.”_

_“It’s a million degrees in here. I’ll fight them all if I have to”_

_The excessive panic in Jim's voice was abnormal, considering the situation. Jim's life was not in immediate danger, his capture being a demand for ransom, not intel. "You were the one that informed Lieutenant Uhura that there is no light source. Any attempts at breaking out without rescue would be illogical and ineffective.” Spock urged as he ran with the away team._

_“I. Need. Out!”]_

**_._ **

**_._ **

**_.  
_ **

“Once the away team and I reached our destination, it came to my attention that the location was a mere eighty-seven degrees Fahrenheit.” Spock informed, closing his eyes for a moment. “My room is eighty-nine degrees Fahrenheit.”

**.**

**.**

**.**

The entire thing was so uncaptain-like. “It was immature and ridiculous. That’s not my usual temperament. As Spock said, I could have waited for my crew to save me patiently. I wasn’t being tortured or anything.”

“Then why the unnecessary panic during the mission?”

“It’s just a huge pet-peeve. It feels like there’s something heavy weighing on my body, and I sprint to a cold shower for relief every time. Spock had no idea how cold I kept my quarters, let alone my house.” He was sweating within the next few minutes of being in Spock’s room, wiping his face, and just feeling the world cave in around him after he woke up.

“Did he ever find out?”

“After that night, hell yes. It was five years in the making, really. I have never seen Spock power walk that fast in my life. He may as well have run to my room.”

“He wished to compare, I am assuming.”

“And he did alright.”

“And how did he react?”

“Not a peep. Instead, he adjusted the temperature throughout the house. The next day, he said that in order to live together for a time, there had to be compromise.” Spock didn't want to hear a word about it since then.

Ryhr parted his lips to speak, lifting his pen. He appeared confused … “You cannot compromise in the bedroom, Mr. Kirk.”

The target was hit. “When we eventually decided to keep to one bedroom, it’s fair to say that it was just another list of underestimations. Spock only agreed to a three-degree increase at most. He could have done more…”

“Did you think you could have tolerated more?”

If only Jim could lie. “No.”

“And you admitted this to him?" Ryhr squinted his grey eyes, "I find that odd, since you admitted nothing before and on the ship.”

“I wasn’t going to. Spock … he touched me.”

“Ah.” Ryhr didn’t need any more explanation.

“Right.”

Jim wanted to take a break and return to work. He needed a distraction from this, because it was getting to be too much.

**.**

**.**

**.**

Spock watched Jim move all his stuff into the master room after one of the most intense conversations they’ve ever had.

 

 _We barely see each other anymore,_ Jim whined as he rolled Spock’s suitcase across the house.

 _I’m tired all the time, and you meditate, so we can at least do those near each other,_ Jim suggested with humor, tearing off the sheets of both beds, to replace only Jim’s.

 _Think about it, you can’t sleep over there knowing what we know, ‘cause normal lovers sleep together in the bed they fuck in,_ Jim cackled as he ripped Spock’s clothes from the other closet, moving them to Jim’s closet.

 _Roommates, live-in couples, yadayada – you’re going to my room from now on since guest rooms are for ‘guests’_ , Jim exclaimed as he clapped his hands, satisfied at the completed transference of Spock’s items.

 

Five more ticks of the clock, and Spock just spit out what happened. “I could not sleep.”

“And since you do not require sleep for at least seventy two hours to properly function, you feigned comfort.”

Fake it to make it, he heard a few of the cadets say. “My argument was that I did this before. I could do so again. The setting had little to do with it.”

“The setting, Mr. Spock, has everything to do with it. A disturbed sleep pattern can hinder a productive day, compromise meditation, and overall efficiency."

“I admit that I have considered those, and not considered them in the same thought.” It was not logistically possible.

“So the pros outweighed the cons in your eyes.”

“For Jim, the cons were insignificant.”              

“For a time.” Dr. Ch'zothon noted.

“For a time.” Spock repeated, summing up the beginning of each complication. Compromise only lasted for a time.

 

**.**

**.**

**.**

Ryhr asked Jim when he realized that he underestimated the change, and so Jim mentioned it, keeping down the shred of hurt it caused to speak of it. “I caught him one day after returning from work early. I haven’t seen him all over campus, which wasn’t a big deal. We rarely did. Something about that day seemed odd to me though.”

“You were not bonded yet, Mr. Kirk.”

“It could have been forming or something. It could have been my own intuition.” Jim shrugged. “He was silent in mind, then he became silent on my comm. I went into his building and his office. He was nowhere to be seen. So I ran home...” He said. “That’s when I saw him …”

“And how did you feel, knowing that your agreed compromise reduced him to sneaking in naps?”

“That obvious?”

“It was inevitable, Mr. Kirk.”

Jim loathed how it was so clear to this stranger and not to him. “Well I was angry that he let it get to that point.”

“ _You_ were angry that _you_ let it get to that point.”

“I’m not liking you right ‘bout now.”

“A common sentiment.” Ryhr smirked.

Jim reflected the smirk, scoffing to the side. “I bet.”

 


	6. SESSION 03/00-3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double update!  
> ~X

**SESSION 03/00-3**

Ryhr Ch'zothon had loose strands today, the locks glossing over his royal blue shirt with white strings intertwining from the collar to the end. “Mr. Kirk is a vegetarian, whereas you are a vegan, Mr. Spock."

“Jim must have informed you of why he permanently refrains from ingesting meat.”

“It was his choice, he said.” Ryhr answered, not once looking down to his notepad. The very fact that Ryhr suggested another session was a sign Spock took to be hope.

“That was never meant to be the case.” Spock responded, biting his tongue ever so slightly. His relationship with Jim was not supposed to change Jim.

“Your displeasure is a fortissimo, Mr. Spock. Why is that?”

“Jim’s decision should have brought me immense pleasure. Instead, it showed me of another failed compromise.” This situation was different than the others. “Perhaps my expectations were unrealistic. I cannot be at fault for my senses and how I react to them.” He said almost defensively. Logically, he was not meant to be embarrassed.

“I can theorize that the _lack_ of reaction was what contributed to the rift.”

Spock ‘s squirm was fit for a child. He could not ignore the heated flush climbing up his neck. “It caused the question, what more could potentially alter between us? Little did I know, our home accommodations and Jim’s dietary alterations were the least of our concerns.”

**.**

**.**

**.**

Once the topic of food was brought up, Jim spoke without thought, going on and one. “I would brush my teeth, use mouthwash, scrub my tongue raw. Then I assumed that perhaps the scent was exuding from my pores – “

Ryhr interjected, with a small cringe. “So you perpetually scrubbed your skin raw.”

Jim almost wanted to spring from his seat and yell ‘ _yes_!’ “This only led me to discover that the consistent exfoliation just exposed the scent some more." There was no winning. "I know he tried to hide his distaste. He might have gotten away with it forever. I admit, I indulged in meat more often because it was much better than what a replicator could shoot up. I had an actual kitchen. How was I supposed to know? He never cared before.” Jim explained, “I could cook it, eat it in front of him just as I did on the ship and in my quarters.”

“He never cared because there was no sexual activity before.”

In translation, Spock never had to taste Jim. “That’s the thing with our ... link.” Jim should have felt his face flushing with deep rouge. “He wouldn’t say a thing, but in his mind, I was putrid.” The shiver was instant. “It was broadcasted so loud, there was no concentration needed. It left no room for deliberation. I didn’t know whether to be ecstatic at the development or disappear into a corner.”

“Humans tend to describe the phenomenon as a ‘turn off’.”

Jim might have laughed if it wasn’t so sad. “I couldn’t have been more of one.”

“So you did what you had to do.”

“Went cold turkey.” He announced to Ryhr, still proud of his achievement.

The amusement showing on Ryhr’s face suddenly made Jim nervous. Immediately, Jim wished to explain, raising a hand. “No, I didn’t actually eat turkey. It’s an expression – “

“There is no need for explanation. I was merely fascinated by your choice of words, Mr. Kirk. Please, do continue.”

Right … “Well… I don’t know what else to say. I thought this was what Spock wanted.” It was the next logical step in their relationship. “People change their diets all the time depending on the situation. This was an important reason. In fact, I’m disappointed that I didn’t think of it before when I asked him to move in with me. I guess… maybe I became too comfortable. “

“You are not regretful of your lifestyle changes. So why are you uneasy right now, Mr. Kirk?”

“Probably because I don't understand what this link is trying to tell me. If I sensed his dislike before, I should have sensed the opposite. Instead, I felt the same … just more _dull_.” That made him more uneasy with everything.

“Mr, Spock was not as accepting as you would have liked, correct?” Ryhr noticed, intertwining his fingers and leaning back, intently watching his patient.

“He never said a word about it. I could make out disappointment, or something of the like. I still don’t know. I wasn’t going to mention it. My decision was made.”

“Disappointment, you say?”

“It doesn’t make sense, right?” Jim asked, expecting automatic agreement.

What he got instead was a frown.

 

“It does make sense, Mr. Kirk.”

Jim squinted his eyes in confusion, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, enclosing his palms. “I’m going to need elaboration for this one. If you can solve it for me, then great.”

Ryhr kept his eyes on Jim. “This is just another example of the limitation in your bond.”

Could a Commodore tell someone to ‘fuck off’? “Right … me being human and all.”

“No need for sarcasm, Mr. Kirk. I am only pointing out that you might have misconstrued."

“But you just said what I felt made sense to you!” Jim exclaimed, the irritation of it all boring into his temples.

“Did you ever ask Mr. Spock what he was disappointed about?” Ryhr tilted his head, tsking in low sounds. “From what I discern by this, you have committed exactly what Mr. Spock does continuously. You have made an assumption and settled with it. You depended on this alien intuition more than communication. The very thing that upsets you about your bondmate.”

**.**

**.**

**.**

Spock and Jim barely spoke in those two days. Spock was either meditating or leaving for campus, which Jim was glad to see. Witnessing Spock, escaping from under those covers was progress for both of them.

When Spock returned, Jim was already home, sitting in the living room, still in uniform. He swallowed after he heard the door hiss.

 

“Jim?”

 

Although Spock always acknowledged Jim whenever they were near each other, he didn’t do much more than that. Jim concluded that Spock always said something because his home training wouldn’t let him do otherwise.

Still, he wanted to hear ‘Ashayam’ at times, not just the cold enunciation of his name. If he were going to hear his name, he would kill to hear it with some form of excitement, or a simple whisper above his heated skin or mouthed in between kisses. If only the touches didn’t bring upon memories that Spock and him could easily do without.

 

“We need to talk.” He announced, exhaling out the words. “There is one more session left, and after that we’ll resume together, if asked of us.”

Spock waited still, listening closely, but not speaking a word in response. If Jim didn’t feel the apprehension, or what he at least assumed to be apprehension, he would have thought Spock to be daydreaming.

“We need to tell Dr. Ch'zothon what happened.” He spit out, getting it over and done with now.

“Agreed.”

“Because I understand that there are customs and that this is far from what you wanted, but it’s obvious that our communication has gone to shit. How can I expect another Vulcan to help us if we can barely help ourselves, and – “

“Jim – “

The faint whisper of his name swiped past him, “Maybe he can help, since he’s so good, sometimes I think it’s scary. I used to think that your guilt would dissipate and my reluctance of contact would just vanish, but if we keep on this path, I’m almost certain someone is going to resent the other. Your father could help us, “ Jim blew out a gust of air, breathing a new batch in to continue his explanation for a futile debate. "It’s just that we both know how I feel about him. Or rather, how he makes me feel.”

 

The clunk of Spock’s suitcase slamming on the floor shook Jim out of his ranting stupor.

His lips shut closed and his eyes widened.

What he saw was Spock with furrowed brows, and frowned lips.

 

“What I _want_ is what we had prior to the hurt I have placed on you by my sudden biological instinct, therefore I am willing to do and say anything.” Spock began with a confident prowl towards Jim in his professor blacks.

The quick compliance was regular when it came to little things. However, there was no way that Jim assumed Spock would agree to this. Jim’s vocal cords were on a time out.

“Dr. Ch'zothon does not hold any heinous intentions, and will not utilize this knowledge for any means besides assisting us. Attending the sessions would be redundant if we ignored this particular … moment.”

 

It wasn’t a moment. It was three nights. “So – “

“We will do what we must.”

“How do we even put this story together?“ Jim pondered aloud. “It makes you look so – “

Spock crossed his lean arms and looked away. “It is of little concern.”

And there it was. Jim raised his finger and sighed, a physical embodiment of ire.

Of course Spock caught onto it in seconds. If only he could understand why. “What is the source of this aggravation?” Spock inquired, genuinely confused and annoyed at this common confusion all the same.

Jim didn’t bother to explain the old issue again, instead resorting to, “Don’t do that.”

“And what precisely have I done, Jim? Have I not just agreed to your proposition?” Spock stepped back, blinking when faced with the indefinable. “Have I not also provided ease by reminding you that I am prepared for this?”

“You’re diffusing the severity of the issue. You always do that.”

By Spock’s fallen shoulders, Jim mentally dared Spock to untangle his arms and let those fall too with an exasperated sigh. Luckily for both of them that never happened.

“What is it you require of me?” Spock asked in a softer tone, giving up before they even began. “Do you wish for me to complain, to whine of how I am not in favor of being portrayed as this lunatic?”  Spock's foreboding of it all was so damn evident, Jim wanted to scream, demanding to know why Spock was hiding from him.

Jim was certain that he felt a twitch under his right eye. “Yes, actually!”

Spock flinched, his expression smoothing out right after. “Explain how this benefits you – benefits us, Jim?”

Jim wished Spock would stop asking for the obvious. “Because something is better than _nothing_.”

 

It was another day that made Jim thankful for the solace of his own room. By the sound of the guest room’s door slamming soon after his, it was obvious that Spock felt the same.


	7. SESSION 04

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
> Another update - here we go!  
> ~X

**SESSION 04**

The day began with the kind of awkwardness Jim and Spock both long adapted to. Jim informed his team that he would be on call whereas Spock's substitute, Walker, agreed to take over today. Both of them didn't need to inform a soul today since this evening was arranged a week ago.

Considering what happened the night before, it didn't distract them from their other assigned duties.

"I will retrieve the apples, cilantro and nutmeg." Spock informed.

Jim opened a cupboard and pointed another item out. "We're missing salt too."

"Noted." Spock said behind him.

"And I'm thinking we should move the table more closer to the right." He turned around with a forced smile and motioned to the living room. "That way the view could be seen from both ends. …Shit, we have to make sure the balcony's locked. A freak accident is something we should avoid at all costs."

"Agreed." Spock answered a bit too quickly; it made Jim wonder if he was even listening, pre-programed to automatically comply.

"Oh." Jim then snapped his finger when he remembered something else. "I'm thinking of the red incense instead of the blue. It's less strong but just enough, I guess."

Spock nodded with his eyes closed, rolling up a sleeve. "I will bring those out."

"Anything else we should go over before I leave?" Jim said, thinking of how his session with Dr. Ch'zothon could go, let alone the dinner party.

"Everything appears to be satisfactory." Spock said after a swift once over of all the plastered ingredients, "Should anything change, I will contact you."

"Don't you want to make the Pok Tar tonight? Demora will be disappointed if you don't."

"I intend to." Spock answered, tilting his head. "You will be late if you do not cease your queries, Jim. This is not new to either of us."

It was always easier if Spock took charge and Jim just followed Spock's directions, never being much a cook himself.

"Just one more thing." He buttoned up his navy dress shirt and shuffled as he put his shoes on.

"And that is?" Spock didn't show any signs of being affected from the night before.

"I apologize." There was no way Jim could begin his day without saying that. Spock could feel it, but as he said time and time again, words mattered. Apologies only contained worth if it began a change in behavior, preferably away from original said act or words.

"You meant what you said." Spock responded, implying the inevitably that Jim did this before and might do so again.

It's like Jim forgot to convey his thoughts without rash outbursts that pierced all their progress. "But I didn't have to be so rude."

A slam of Spock's PADD on the counter later, "Does this apply to your demand that I ' _get out of your head'_?"

Okay. This was how this conversation was going to go. They've been over this before, or so Jim thought. Instead of explaining himself again, he sent all of his vexation Spock's way. "I can't, I just can't do this right now." He said rushing to get ready. He's made it clear that those words would never escape his lips again.

The immediate resignation in Spock's posture was nothing like what was being sent Jim's way. "Whatever you wish."

"Stop _saying_ that." Jim muttered under his breath, rubbing his temples. He couldn't leave like this, and Spock knew it.

"Perhaps during your session, you should compose a list with Dr. Ch'zothon of what I am forbidden to say. You have me operating blind on a consistent basis. Do you find entertainment in my difficulties – "

" _You_ know damn well why I don't like you saying that, Spock."

"And I do not recall you ever taking the leisure of explaining it to me." Spock's eyes darkened as he narrowing his eyes, turning in Jim's direction. He was challenging Jim. "Please, do not refrain from explaining it now."

"It's because it sounds like _'Aye, Captain,_ ' and that's something I'm not anymore!" Where was that fucking muzzle when he needed it?

**.**

**.**

**.**

"Family. Preferably in-law interactions."

The simple words made Jim want to walk out right there and then. The only reason why he didn't was because this whole thing was his idea, and he wanted to lead by example. "You just get straight to the good stuff, don't you." He laughed off his chagrin.

"I like to keep people on their feet." Ryhr expressed with a shrug.

And so Jim pointed at the Betazoid, a clear gesture that he saw him. "You have some humor to you."

"It makes me more relatable. The skin void of pigment and blank eyes tend to arise caution. Without my empathy and subtle humor, all would be closed off to me."

"You need more Starfleet clientele." Jim suggested with a snicker.

'The only benefit I can think of is that those of Starfleet actually pronounce my name correctly." Ryhr chuckled, "Besides that, they tend to be the most complicated."

"Well ' _family'_ is the root of all complications, so if you want to avoid that, we should speak of something else."

"We will have to address it one day, Mr. Kirk." Ryhr promised in a manner that did not appear threatening, but appeared threatening nonetheless. "Besides, I am not one to cower when things become complicated."

"Clearly. You're willing to listen to me and Spock."

"The main complications are from your differences, culturally, emotionally, biologically. How fare's your power dynamics? Explain those to me. How has this aspect shifted from your ship to the domestic life?"

Jim has concluded that as he sat here, as a man who faced the impossible before, he was scared shitless of what Ryhr could do. He wasn't ready to speak about that yet. "How in the …?"

Ryhr's blinked his grey eyes as he raised his brows.

"I need to know how you do that." Jim was in awe since he tried his best to not arrive to his session with anger. He was not one to displace built up anger to an unrelated target.

"What took place this morning?"

And so Jim cleared his throat, creating more space in his collar with his index finger. "This is the first time I told Spock that I wasn't his Captain. He talks to me like I am." He confessed, biting his bottom lip. "I got so annoyed – "

"So once again, you did not think before you spoke."

"I'm actually very good at contemplating my words before I speak them. It's just that when he agrees with me time and time again -" It was unfortunate because if Jim tried to explain it, it would sound stupid in his ears, let alone Ryhr.

"Your feelings are not stupid." Ryhr blurted out, placing his abused notepad to the side, halting in his notes.

"Stop that." He demanded in a deeper voice.

"Why?"

"I just don't like it – "

"And why is that?"

"Is asking ' _why'_ all you do?"

Ryhr exhaled loudly, "When my inquiries are ignored, then yes, Mr. Kirk."

"You're not Spock. I didn't give my mind to you. There's no bridge. There's no link – so I find it a bit creepy." Basic etiquette of those with empathy and telepathy was to keep any involuntarily gathered intel to themselves, so this was new territory for Jim. The last time he experienced an individual freely expressing their observations through their abilities, it ended up taking place on a hostile planet.

"Is it 'creepy' because, I, a mere stranger, Mr. Kirk, can assess your emotions strictly through my empathy more accurately than your bondmate? More accurately than your partner, whom has the added advantage of reading your thoughts."

In Jim's mind, Ryhr wasn't better, just more taught. This was a reflection of Ryhr's training, not Spock's lacking of understanding, "You haven't known me for years."

"True. The fact remains, Mr. Kirk. A more fluent connection is something Spock is neglecting himself with this union. You confuse him, an impossible concept in a bond."

Jim could feel a tic coming, "So what, you're rubbing it in or something? We're not completely hopeless. If we were, how in the hell did we manage to serve together for this long?"

But that was it wasn't it… they're not serving together anymore, they're simply 'being' together, neglected from many and gifted so much all the same.

"It aches, doesn't it? Knowing that your bondmate would be more comfortable with another - With someone like me if not another Vulcan. Vulcans he's surrounded by whenever he travels to New Vulcan, I'll add." Ryhr said with a hint of another future topic. Spock must have told Ryhr of Jim's reluctance of going to New Vulcan.

"Why are you saying all this?" Jim questioned, appearing more vulnerable than intended. It irked him that this came out of his mouth, instead of saying that Ryhr was bordering on inappropriate. It fucking ached at him.

"Because you have not once mentioned your jealousy. Something that is natural in an intraspecific relationship, let alone one that is not. By your bondmate acting as your subordinate, it is a sign of the lack of development in your union. You are partners, not Captain and First Officer. With another, he could easily be more."

Ryhr was tightening his fist around Jim's heart. "You want me to say that I'm jealous?"

"Are you?"

No, no, no Jim had to see right again and get rid of these images. "His love doesn't conceal the fact that there are better options. I'm not an idiot. It's plain as day." He admitted that, not admitting that he was jealous at times.

"Does Mr. Spock lead on these other … potentials?"

Jim paused, biting his bottom lip. He inched back in his couch, looking at the view of the hectic city around them, "In my eyes, Spock is the kindest man. The same applies for my best friend. It is because of my bias views that I occasionally forget that the world sees them differently. Whether it's intentional or not, they are blunt, cold and rude."

"So it is that very change in behavior, a side you only see, being shown to another, one you would deem unimportant. That is how it hurts."

Spot on, "There was one time I saw him friendly with another Vulcan - One that freshly arrived from New Vulcan. Spock basically implied that they were ' _close'_. They conversed in Vulcan, a language I have yet to be fluent in, and it hit me. It was a smack in the face that threw me off." He remembered how Suren would cast quick glances his way as they conversed in the far corner. It was almost taunting. "Spock wasn't blunt, cold or rude. When I should have been happy or at least nonchalant at this development, I was … disturbed."

"Did you think he committed some form of adultery?"

"No. No, I didn't." He answered immediately, shaking his head. "It's not like he can have an affair on me. It would be too dishonorable for him, and that's forgetting the obvious fact that I would discover it immediately." He snapped his fingers as he said this.

"So you sensed his intentions?"

No. Jim knew this through what he already knew of Spock, "I sensed nothing. I can't all the time. I concentrated that day though. I concentrated so hard, I could feel a vein about to pop. If I continued to try, I might have fainted on the spot."

"So you being disturbed solely came to be through your human awareness. Through your trust."

"You make it sound like I have nothing in my disposal. Trust is everything we have."

"What you have holds value, especially trust. Of course you are keen of your senses, and I am certain you have utilized them throughout your career. I am not diminishing it in any way. All I am stating is that you would need further discussion to clear out all speculation in a field that is all but new to you."

"It would be a insult to him if I said anything of the like. Honestly, he would probably leave the planet if I did." Jim waved his hand, dismissing the idea. "Either way, as illogical as it was, I couldn't sleep when we returned home, that's for sure. I know he wouldn't play games, lie or disappear on me. I know now that the whole scenario only reminded me of my insecurities, but at the time – I was on adrenaline if anything."

"So you addressed it? You just said you wouldn't."

"I addressed it in a manner that made sense, and since my insecurities didn't make sense then – "

"You blamed him."

"I didn't." The lie rolled off his tongue too fast. It was an unsuccessful one. "I just wanted to clarify some things. I bet he still doesn't understand why –"

"You have created a rift in your relationship by accusing him. You took to unnecessarily damaging the trust between you two."

"I acted on a whim, without thought." He defensibly blurt out. "I didn't say he was cheating on me, but the way he acted troubled me. I'm not … I'm not that person."

"Tell me how you conveyed your feelings. I feel immense possession emanating from you as you recall the emotionally stressful moment, like an animal that has had its territory inhabited by trespassers."

That must have been the most perfect explanation Jim's ever heard. He pondered on it, hiding the bottom half of his face with his palms. "God, you have no idea." He almost groaned.

Ryhr acceptance of the challenge was as predictable as the sun that arose each morning. "Try me."

There was no way he could say this without sounding abnormal. "I used seduction as a weapon." Jim choked out the dirty admission, "I made it absolutely clear that... that he was mine."

"Then you made him repeat after you in his most vulnerable state. You yearned for assertion." Ryhr concluded with pursed lips, his scolding apparent. By his quick deduction, it was evident that he's heard of this before, "So why the annoyance in his subordinate behavior this morning?"

Jim flinched, "Excuse me?"

" _You_ were the one to have established the nature of your relationship, and your dominant position."

No. Fucking no. "I didn't mean it like _that_."

"You said, _'you are mine'_ – not _, 'we are in his together.'_ " Ryhr intertwined his fingers; resting his chin above them, "Explain to me how Mr. Spock was supposed to translate this any other way?"

**.**

**.**

**.**

The thick ooziness of vexation hit Spock before the front door slid open. Jim passed through twenty-one minutes earlier than scheduled and automatically took to the preparations for the evening, shredding the carrots until they were the size of toothpicks. The vegetables became a victim to Jim's sharp hand as he cut without a word.

As Spock sat in the same couch Jim was in just previously, he knew something significant happened in here, and it worried Spock as he watched Dr. Ch'zothon blink at him with a disconcerting stare. It was strange, seeing Dr. Ch'zothon look directly at him with the eyes of a blind man.

"Have you entertained the thought of leaving Mr. Kirk?"

There was no greeting, no 'small talk', and not a single inquiry of recent updates.

"You know I have." Spock answered, not bothering to conceal his unsettlement.

"Forgive me, I will clarify. Have you ever entertained the thought of leaving Mr. Kirk for a Vulcan per your father's advice?"

 _Never._ "Negative."

Dr. Ch'zothon took a pause, blinking at Spock.

Spock waited patiently on his couch, keeping his face blank. It was as if he was being interrogated, which was absurd since he had nothing to hide.

"Then who is Suren?"

So why did Spock choke on his own saliva in shock?

"Suren … he is the newly appointed sixth chairmen for the Vulcan Science Academy, and board member for the Primary Educational System. We have an acquaintanceship in which we interchange information of what could benefit the new establishments, actively endeavoring to improve the curriculum for the students and future students to come." It was a simple explanation.

It was the truth.

In the end, Dr. Ch'zothon appeared dissatisfied. "In essence, you two are colleagues."

"Correct."

"That is not all, Mr. Spock."

Spock felt his facial features sharpen. He had to prevent a snarl. "What are you insinuating?" He inquired, his voice becoming authoritative as if addressing an incompetent officer.

"Do you find him attractive?" Dr. Ch'zothon questioned without shame, knowing the insult he was stating.

"He is two years older than I, and considered aesthetically pleasing to both humans and Vulcans. "

"I am speaking about you."

"And I answered." He could hear McCoy's voice in a similar situation. The appropriate expletive would have been _'fuck off'._

"Okay." Dr. Ch'zothon deeply inhaled. "Do you find him to be compatible?"

"All objectives in relation to our work are nearly identical. Suren's methods are exemplary – "

There was a wave of indignation washing over Spock as he watched Dr. Ch'zothon's right eye twitch, his nostrils flaring, "Has Suren expressed his interest in you?"

To say that he was surprised at the turn in conversation would have been a lie, "Not verbally."

"Mr. Spock." Dr. Ch'zothon said sternly, his stare becoming more of a glare. "Do you speak in this manner to your bondmate?"

"Elaborate."

"Do you have a tendency to omit?"

"It has been expressed to me."

"Then it will be expressed again. You omit." Dr. Ch'zothon rubbed his eyes, and Spock could sense a hint of hopelessness. "Obviously this is not because you hold nefarious intentions. In fact, you may do this to prevent hurting Mr. Kirk. Stating that someone is attractive or has expressed interest in you does not incriminate you if Mr. Kirk asks. It opens a channel of communication and dissolves the tension. I understand that you would not lie to your bondmate, so you act on the next option."

Hearing the true purpose of his habits released all the pressure on his muscles. Dr. Ch'zothon actually understood beyond what empathy could show, considering that he was blocking as much as he could. "… And that is omission."

"I will inform you of where you err in this. You have said yourself that many others find this Suren to be attractive. By denying or speaking around the obvious fact, you appear to be defensive, hiding your attraction and thus implying that your attraction is heightened above the norm."

"Suren does not compare." Jim was in his own category in Spock's eyes.

"You have missed the prime opportunity to say that."

"He is already aware … are you implying that he is insecure in his appearance?"

"He was Captain. He is very confident in himself and in his work. He appears to have various acquaintances in his work place, despite the loneliness he feels. The idea that Mr. Kirk is insecure in his appearance is preposterous, I agree. I observe that by his posture alone. However, when you are involved, all his internal strength weakens because in some manner, he believes to be beneath you."

"I cannot begin to comprehend how such a belief would manifest itself. Why would I choose to be with someone whom I think is beneath me? It is beyond logical."

"You have to acknowledge that Suren is a reflection of what Mr. Kirk is not and never will be. Suren is an embodiment of what you can have and what you have neglected yourself by being with your bondmate." Dr. Ch'zothon pointed out, "Are you saying that you do not believe yourself to be responsible for shattering all disillusions of inadequacy without his asking?"

The raw eagerness, the persistence and overall calculation in Jim's actions after the gala were brought to Spock's cognizance by Dr. Ch'zothon's rhetoric inquiry.

"Think of the way he acted. Think of all the foreign emotions that were transferred through your link. Think of how he contradicted those emotions by his behavior, acting illogically. You are the only person he is not meant to fake it with, Mr. Spock."

 

… Spock already picked up the necessary items for the evening prior to Jim's return, so when he himself returned home fifty-six minutes late, he made sure to bring pastries as an excuse for the time he took to think.

Nothing could make Spock forget how easily he could fall for Jim's façades. Years together, and he allowed Jim to trick him. Granted, the fault also resided with Spock because he should have taken advantage of the situation, further clarifying his love.

Considering that whole night, it made Spock contemplate ... what was the point of a bond?

**.**

**.**

**.**

_[It was Jim that offered to assist in removing Spock's shirt, something they rarely did for the other unless the intention was to begin sexual interactions. He should have known that when Jim slowly began to unfold Spock's formal wear that he would do something like this._

_Out of all the sensations he could feel, arousal was always the most apparent. Hence the surprise, since there was no arousal to be found._

_And so Spock rested his weight on the wall, feeling Jim's breath dance above his lips as they both waited for something they were both clueless to. Jim had each palm placed on the wall, one by each side of Spock's head, contact being so close and so far simultaneously._

_"When are we going to tell people?"_

_The sorrow in the query was evident. Spock recognized their current public state was not a proper representation. It was not as if they had regulation to hide behind. "Whenever you wish."_

_A husked curse was spoken, and Jim brought his body closer, the fabric doing its best to conceal the need that Spock now felt to be growing tremendously. "If it were really up to me, everyone in that room would have already known."_

_It was odd because, "I assumed it was you that preferred discretion.'_

_He assumed that Jim wished continue the conversation when he shut his eyes to think. Spock did not dare to touch skin, for he could move his finger one mere centimeter. Jim's thoughts were but a fog, and Spock was unable to discern what lurked behind the debris._

_While deep in thought, Jim's harsh kiss forced Spock to raise his chin by its gravity, and meet it with equal impact. He grasped the idea that if it were truly up to Jim, he would broadcast his love to any ear willing to listen, an identical thought to what Jim already said._

_Jim pulled away, moving his lips to Spock's right ear as he fisted his hands on Spock's loose fabrics. The whispers were hot, aggressive and purely primal. Arousal was an underlying factor to something much more. If only he knew._

_He could simply ask._

_But what was there to ask when there was an unhinged comfort of hearing the desperation that echoed his own._

_He thought of his father. He thought of his mother. He thought of all their established differences and whatever else could possibly transcend between him and Jim through their lives … and Spock acknowledged that the care he should have had was completely absent._

_By pulling Jim closer and covering the back of Jim's neck with his palm, he listened and listened with shuttered breathing._

_When he failed to repeat Jim's declaration, forgetting his own voice, the abuse of his sensitive lobe began. His dignity was retreating with each bite, and each moan became trapped in his throat as a result._

_He was Jim's, and there was nothing else right in this universe. It was only a matter of time before he said it too.]_


	8. SESSION 00-4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will post the rest of the chapters soon!  
> ~X

**SESSION 00-4**

 

**Are you cooking?**

**We could bring treats.**

**-HS**

**##=##=##=##=##=##=##=#**

**Yes. Our house = our cooking.**

**Limit the treats. You never bring real ones. It'll probably still end up being healthy.**

**There's dessert waiting for you already.**

**-JTK**

**##=##=##=##=##=##=##=#**

**Wine then.**

**And by 'our' do you mean Spock?**

**-HS**

**##=##=##=##=##=##=##=#**

**PS. Beer is for Ben.**

**I'm assuming you'll join him again?**

**-HS**

**##=##=##=##=##=##=##=#**

**No. I mean, cooking's mostly me.**

**And yes to the beer.**

**Thanks.**

**-JTK**

**##=##=##=##=##=##=##=#**

**Now I'm worried.**

**-HS**

**##=##=##=##=##=##=##=#**

**About the beer or my cooking?**

**-JTK**

**##=##=##=##=##=##=##=#**

**The latter.**

**-HS**

**##=##=##=##=##=##=##=#**

**That was your cue to lie.**

**Guess I'll dump all my efforts and replace it with synthesized lettuce.**

**-JTK**

**##=##=##=##=##=##=##=#**

**Please don't do that.**

**-HS**

**##=##=##=##=##=##=##=#**

**PS. Did Spock at least help?**

**-HS**

**##=##=##=##=##=##=##=#**

**Hello?**

**-HS**

**##=##=##=##=##=##=##=#**

**Is there pok tar?**

**-HS**

**##=##=##=##=##=##=##=#**

**You're insufferable.**

**-JTK**

**.**

**.**

**.**

Jim stared at the completed dishes; satisfied at the work he shoved all his anger into.

He also warmed up Spock's dish and included it alongside the others, even making an aesthetically pretty arrangement.

Pretty soon, a more overwhelming feeling interjected his thoughts, swarming over the enjoyment of a job well done. With a rough sigh, he turned around for Spock's entrance and prepared himself to put what they said this morning and last night behind them. It barely mattered that Spock was late because that wasn't some rare occurrence anymore.

Regardless, he prepared to make Spock aware that they were indeed in this together. He also intended to express his insecurities in detail, instead of the small speculations Jim knew Spock raised over time. He prepared to expose this weakness, this petty reason as to why he dislikes the idea of going to New Vulcan.

Spock would've worked endlessly and Jim would've worked from home, as challenging as that would be. Despite that, things would've been easier if Ambassador Spock were still alive. Then Jim would have had someone to be comfortable with. In the end, he would've always been with someone that didn't doubt them. Sarek was a blaring reminder of how Jim lacked. Basically, it was a sample of what he would see on other faces, treating him with respect, but also not concealing the pity they had for Spock. It was something he knew would break them.

 

He wished he could say he was stronger.

He underestimated his own strength.

This enormous ego he created for himself was one big excuse to avoid this vulnerable part of him. He wanted this ego to shield him, except success wasn't consistent, its failure causing Jim to say and act irrationally.

 

With a little gust of air, he caught the familiar aroma of the pastries Spock brought home. There wasn't an explanation needed, and Jim could have smiled because it was a better excuse than 'work'.

Spock did appear to be fatigued, and Jim could confidently say that he felt it as well. So he simply smiled with closed lips and accepted the box, opening the top to look inside.

 

The contents inside made him want to laugh.

 

He once claimed that he would eat up anything with apples in it, and gazing at the sugar coated apple strudels caused his cheeks to heat up. It's been months since Spock brought in something, testing out Jim's words, making it a funny little challenge between them.

The simple thanks got caught in his throat as he put the white top back, leaving the tape dangling.

 

"Apple Strudels, the fifteenth item." Spock cleared his throat, seeming a hint nervous. "Is this adequate?"

It was great. "It's better than the apple sauce you got me last time." Which was a significant downgrade from the Apple-Onion Bruschettas. After Spock presented it to him, it was the source of his cackling for a whole day.

Spock's brows furrowed, still keeping an arm's distance away, "I recall you favored those tremendously. You ingested an entire gallon."

"You bought it from the baby aisle." Jim deadpanned, feigning insult.

Spock turned away with a sigh, knowing very well that they've had this conversation before, Jim's argument being completely illogical, "The ingredients were _identical_."

"There was a cheesing baby on the cover." Jim added with a smallest of chuckles, "It won't be long before I get the same cheeks if you keep shoving sweets in my face. I'm not gifted with a Vulcan metabolism." There was still the possible option of eating one, or five, then making sure Demora stuffed the rest in her face. It'll probably be the most sweets she had in years, knowing her parents.

 

"Perhaps." Spock said, taking a step forward, his dark stare not matching the humorous tone at all, his lips slightly pursed out.

Jim couldn't remember the last time he touched those lips, and that was incredibly sad. Something was pushing at Jim's temples, which he blinked away instantly. If he didn't concentrate on it too much, it wouldn't become heavier, then inevitably causing pain. He couldn't give it life, not now when everything was so fragile.

Jim cleared his throat, walking away from the intense stare and into the kitchen, "You don't care if I become overweight? I could develop a gut, Spock." He joked as he took out a plate to place the pastries on.

"I care about your health and well-being." Spock responded, standing by the open kitchen entrance.

"Not the same thing." Jim turned, rolling his eyes to emphasize the evasion in Spock's comment."It's okay to say it." He wasn't fishing for compliments, just explaining the important aspect of keeping personal appearances and how it varied from person to person. "I mean … I know people that would leave if their significant other gained a substantial amount of weight." Jim coated the bitter statement with a snort. It would be another negative on their long list of negatives.

"And you believe me to be one of those?" Spock tilted his head, squinting his eyes in thought. "Do you not believe me to be the one to assist you in achieving your goal body mass instead? To aid you in your journey, returning you to what you would deem appropriate and satisfactory."

"I'm asking which one you are." He said while arranging the treats on the plate, his back to Spock. "I'm not guessing this time or finding out from your head. How many negatives could you take?"

"All of them." Spock's response was immediate, "In regards to your altered appearance, I would stay as well."

It was endearing, and the truthfulness of it rang clear. With that in mind, Jim turned around, did a little hop and sat on the counter. He bent down, analyzing Spock and keeping silent, a technique that irked Spock at times because it would render him looking through Jim's mind for answers, something he avoided to do or mention since Jim's last outburst.

 

Jim sucked in his lips and sighed, a mischievous pout appearing on his face, "You'd fuck me fat?"

The crassness of it caused widened eyes, Jim was certain Spock was about to start tapping his chest to release the trapped bubbles of air. Spock blinked more than he needed to, like he normally did when faced with confusion.

"Well?" Jim taunted, missing these moments – only reliving them in his dreams.

Spock then took a step forward, his sanguine rising, soon becoming a light whisper, Jim doubted if it even occurred at all. There wasn't a hint of disgust to be found. If there was, then Jim knew Spock was hiding it so deep, it was impossible for slithers of light to touch it. He also saw Spock gritting his teeth, his nostrils flaring as he prowled closer.

He wasn't an arm's width away anymore, which was the space Jim normally requested between them. Somehow, that request escaped him, as he slowly turned into a bare puppet to Spock's intention to close off their distance.

 

Spock didn't forget.

Spock just didn't care for it right now.

 

"You'd still …" Spock whispered, moving his hand to Jim's knee, "You can bear the thought of my touch?"

Jim scanned the face before him to see if there was a sign of pixels, since he was certain that this Spock was some fake projection, which was sincerely showing his shock instead of tucking it away.

"How could you say that?" Jim questioned in bewilderment, puzzled at the turn of conversation, "Of course, Spock. This isn't meant to last forever – "

"…I thought – " Spock shut his mouth, retracting his hand as if Jim's denim were coated with sulfuric acid.

It dawned on Jim that Spock genuinely assumed that Jim would never let him touch him again. Not only would Spock be neglected of a fluid mental connection, he was willing to sacrifice any intimate physical expression as the icing on top of the most fucked up sundae in existence. Without contemplation, Jim crumpled the fabric of Spock's shirt into his fist and brought him in for a hug, feeling Spock's full weight on him brought on by the shock of the gesture.

"You idiot." Jim muttered in Spock's shoulder. Forget about personal appearances, when this was a man willing to stay with him celibate for the rest of Jim's life. It didn't matter if the unlikely endeavor might have been unsuccessful – all that mattered was that Spock thought it possible, willing to try. "When was the last time I told you how much you mean to me?"

Spock's breath caressed Jim's neck, holding Jim in his embrace, "Sixty-nine days, eighteen hours and four min – "

Spock's calculated time stung at Jim's psyche, sagging in his spot, Spock keeping him upright. Jim reset Spock's answer back to zero, making a promise to never let it get that high again.

**.**

**.**

**.**

Jim yanked the beers from Ben before hugging the man. Sulu acted hurt, once again claiming that Jim was dedicated to steal his husband from him. He denied it of course, stating that he would steal Demora instead.

Her little embrace was a suffocating one, holding an abnormal amount of power for such a small girl. Her smile had the magic to erase Jim's accumulated anxiety. It took a few moments too long to feel Spock's stare in their direction. It reminded Jim that he shouldn't hold on for long.

Him and Spock couldn't afford another issue on the stack of others they had crushing down on them.

 

"Did Mr. Spock make me Pok Tar?!" Demora jumped up in excitement, clapping her hands.

Jim pinched the nub of her nose, "You betchya!"

Instead of her usual 'Thank you, Mr. Spock!' from the distance, Demora took to running across the room to wrap her growing arms around Spock's hips.

Sulu and Ben almost dropped their stuff, keeping all their attention on Spock to see what he would do, since contact wasn't Spock's forte.

Jim gulped, waiting for Spock's response.

"Thank you, Mr. Spock." Demora hummed, nuzzling Spock's shirt like an affection deprived feline.

 

Spock blinked at the soft black patch of hair attached to his torso, looking to Jim for a brief moment. Jim sensed that Spock wasn't annoyed in any way, just contemplating on how to proceed.

Sulu mouthed off an apology, while Ben wiped his forehead.

Very, very carefully, Spock patted Demora's head, regarding her with a quirk on the corners of his lips.

"You are most welcome, little one."


	9. SESSION 05

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shit gets real. 
> 
> ~X

**SESSION 05**

 

> _["Hey, kid. I know you're expecting Jo to pop up or something, but shame to say it's just me. Listen … I've been thinking that I should drop by._
> 
> _Before you start blasting my comm, you should understand that Jo has a group trip coming up for graduation, so that'll be a good time as any. I'm still not comfortable that Alfred's coming along._
> 
> _Anyways, … I know you're better physically, but I still worry about the side effects from this bond - Especially your cortisol levels._
> 
> _You haven't called me selfish for not wanting to see Spock once, and dammit Jim; it is selfish of me. I like the guy. How could I not after the craziness we went through up there? We kicked ass together._
> 
> _And yet … I want to break his face._
> 
> _Then that would be me blaming him for something he couldn't have helped. A doctor should understand that more than anyone._
> 
> _You agreed to all this, so who am I to judge … right?_
> 
> _So … will you let a poor old man like me see his best friend?_
> 
> _Let me know."]_

**.**

**.**

**.**

"I am delighted that you two have partaken in a recreational activity. A time of bonding. Something that must be increased, I'll add." Ryhr said, referencing on his comment that these two were spending too much time apart.

"It was something we planned for some time." Jim wasn't so sure of doing other activities together since their work schedule was so rigorous.

"And who were these guests, may I ask?" Ryhr interchanged glances between the two.

"Hikaru and Ben Sulu." Jim answered.

Spock continued to clarify, "Lieutenant Hikaru Sulu is one of our former helmsman of the Enterprise. He is a dear friend."

Ryhr appeared to be almost glowing, his smile widening. "Close relations on both parts. Splendid."

"And they have an eleven year old daughter. Little Demora." Jim added, thinking of how the kid demolished the Pok Tar and expressed her interest in the tri-dimensional chess set again.

The chore of dusting it off prior to their arrival was completed with Jim trying his best to push away the disappointment of seeing how much dust it accumulated. It was like a physical embodiment of what him and Spock have become.

Ryhr's smiled, showing teeth. "Ah, so they are in a romantic relationship?"

"Married, actually." Jim elaborated.

"An official human union. Much better."

 

Jim didn't know what it was. Maybe it was Ryhr's smirk or the underlying shade of it all. Jim and Spock weren't married, but they were bonded - an officially recognized union all the same with the same benefits.

Did this mean that Jim hasn't offered the highest union his species could offer? It wouldn't change a thing, and in spite of that, Jim pondered on it …

 

"I was going to mention the importance of obtaining relationships with not only stable interspecific couples, but of same sex ones as well. Assuming they are stable …"

"Very." With the way Ben mischievously smirked at Sulu with a beer at hand, as they spoke about the possibility of Sulu becoming Lieutenant Commander, it made Jim almost envious.

Jim was so thankful Ryhr didn't speak a word of the thought.

"And this child, are you two familiar with her?"

"We see Demora a minimum of four times in a Terran month. She is a rather active child, never shying away from what would be deemed an invasive inquiry."

In vernacular, she was a nosy little thing.

"And how are you with children?" The inquiry was for Spock.

"I am only acquainted with Demora, and Joanna, Dr. McCoy's daughter."

"Joanna's a teenager." Jim corrected, still wondering why Spock always called her a child.

"But I am sure she is but a child in the eyes of Mr. Spock, am I correct?"

Spock nodded, "The thought has occurred, yes."

"And these kids are all you know?"

"On Terra, yes." Spock answered, "However, I will add that I am acquainted with a multitude of children, those of New Vulcan and of the old."

Ryhr scribbled that down, "Ah, yes, you are an active figure in the educational system and are colleagues with those on the board."

"Affirmative."

"Would you describe your relationship with them as 'close'?"

"They all hold unique personalities. I ponder to each, and I admit, a few are fascinated by my person on occasion."

"It's hero worship." Jim interjected with a snort. Those kids adored Spock.

"Whatever it may be, I find no trouble in it." Spock added, his dislike of the term evident.

"Mr. Kirk, how is your relationship with Demora and Joanna?"

Easy question, "Well, I love them. Obviously. With Demora, I'm always called Mr. Kirk, but with Joanna, I'm called Uncle Jim if not Jimmy. I enjoy their company and they enjoy mine."

"So why is it that when I mention them, your happiness from when I first spoke of them, to now, has fallen, if not vanished."

The sound of clashing hovercrafts overshadowed Jim's senses as he blinked at Ryhr. "I'm sorry?"

Spock was the one who answered, "This has happened before. His usual fondness of whenever I mention Joanna or Demora has become nonexistent."

"Really?" Ryhr said with interest.

"Contrary, the sadness becomes prominent whenever Dr. McCoy sends his weekly videos, exhibiting jubilant behavior whilst enjoying family activities." Spock responded. "It was prominent during the Sulu's visit as well."

Jim didn't appreciate being talked about as if he wasn't in the room. "This is starting to feel like an ambush."

"Why do you think he feels this way?" Ryhr asked Spock, ignoring Jim completely.

"I have a theory." Spock answered, like he didn't hear Jim as well.

Ryhr nodded. "I have one as well."

"Evidently."

"Listen," Jim interrupted the judging exchange with a loud clap between them, his most immature gesture yet, "Spock and I have an agreement."

"Hence my puzzlement in your shift in emotions." Spock responded, suddenly the space between Jim and him reducing into nothing.

Ryhr then said what Jim wanted to say if he had the courage to retract on his agreement. "All beings change their mind, Mr. Spock."

The subtle flinch on Spock's face didn't go unnoticed. So Spock knew all along, and never mentioned it. That clearly meant he didn't want anything to be changed.

"I'm fine." Jim muttered.

"No." Ryhr shook his head, disappointed in Jim's statement. "You are not fine, because you want kids."

_Not now!_

"Is a break allowed in these things?" He motioned his hands around the office, stating that this 'thing' was this session and everyone in it.

"No." Ryhr and Spock answered in unison.

Jim sunk into his portion of the couch with a slouch and mope. "Neither of us believes that a kid is in our future. So we agreed that it would not be mentioned between us again."

Ryhr wasn't pleased, "But you want to mention it."

"I don't." He spit out, biting his tongue in the process.

"Lying is not tolerated in my office."

The defensiveness that washed over Jim was natural. " _I_ wasn't the one that went back on my agreement." He said almost accusatory, directing the comment to Spock, whom immediately looked away with a sigh. They both knew exactly what was going on.

"Mr. Spock did not retract on the agreement." Ryhr pointed out, "You are the one that wants kids."

Ryhr didn't get it. So Jim decided to make him get it. "Which doesn't exclude the fact that Spock decided to adopt _hundreds._ It's his fault I'm even letting this … bother me."

"I did not adopt any children, let alone Vulcan children." Spock said, sounding prepared for the outburst.

"It's the _principle_ , Spock. The freakin' principle." This made Jim want to just shake Spock.

Realization plastered on Ryhr's small facial features, scooting closer from his seat. "And by principle you are referring to the fatherly position Spock holds on New Vulcan, something he refuses to be with you." He pointed to Spock as he said this.

Jim wanted to hug Ryhr right there and then.

Spock was starting to become uncomfortable, "I have not refused Jim of anything."

Then Jim had to hold in a curse.

"Directing to you Mr. Spock, do you wish to be a father?"

Jim interjected instead, not letting Spock win this one. "He said that he didn't. I don't know anymore though, because he sure seems to be enjoying it." He immaturely intervened, knowing damn well that Ryhr wasn't in favor of such attitude. "I wondered where this joy was coming from when Spock was gone. It was enough joy for me to skip down headquarters. I wondered, coming up with the craziest ideas. Next thing I know, there's kids reading in the corner of Spock's office as he's facing me in a video comm."

"I am providing my services to my people, Jim. I am overseeing the developments for their future, not mine's." Spock barked back in dismissive manner, which was almost too impossible for a sentient being.

"I know that already." Jim expressed, not trying to come off as selfish. He had no problems with duty.

"Then why do you _despise_ me for it?"

"Because you told me that you despised the idea of being the sole caretaker for a _being_. You would never have the time, you said. You were not certain of the kind of parent you would be and were not interested in finding out. Now in regards to me specifically, you didn't want any conflicts about how to raise the child, considering what would be our obvious parenting differences. Your upbringing, in which you were the offspring of a human, carried struggles you do not wish to impose on whoever we take into our care."

 

Before when Spock's face was concentrated on Ryhr, his expression fell. He turned to Jim as if stunned he remembered, like that conversation didn't pour acid onto Jim's future.

Jim concluded to himself long ago, that perhaps Spock was okay with being a father. Spock just wouldn't ever be ready to be one with Jim - Especially a Vulcan child.

Maybe Jim was too fucked up from his childhood, that Spock assumed that Jim would reflect the flaws of it onto the child. Maybe a Vulcan/Human household was too complicated for Spock to bother, considering that he was raised in a one hundred percent Vulcan home.

Jim wasn't Amanda Grayson. Not at all.

A human child was also optional, except Jim didn't want one because that would be another sacrifice on Spock's part, for Spock would be void of a Vulcan parent-child relationship and bond.

There wasn't any winning unless they created a child of their own, which couldn't happen for obvious reasons.

 

"Mr. Spock, are these your words?" Ryhr inquired for confirmation.

Spock breathed in, his chest lifting up, not batting an eye away from Jim. A nail was hit. "Yes … they are."

"Then why do you seem to – "

"Dr. Ch'zothon," Spock lifted a palm. "I ask that you cease speaking, for you are treading on delicate territory."

The clicking of the clock behind Ryhr ticked, broadcasting each second that went by as Jim balked between the two, feeling more excluded than ever. "This is fantastic. I'm missing out on something else, again. Is my human brain just too little to absorb the complexity of this secret conversation?"

"You are using sarcasm to conceal your anger towards me, which I can feel regardless." Spock cringed.

It was not the right thing for Spock to say to him but he gave points for that one anyways. "An astute observation!"

Jim could feel that it took all of Spock's training and conditioning to remain still. The held in shout was apparent by the growing indent on Spock's jaw.

"Jim - "

"This is too important to hide away from me now." Jim inched closer, placing his palms on Spock's knees. He was too close to abandon any possible discovery.

"I advise that you explain this to him, Mr. Spock. He is your bondmate. He was once your Captain. He is not a child to be coddled."

"His strength is immeasurable." Spock admitted, his pupils dilated and directed to Jim's burning palms.

With a light push, Jim hissed, "Then stop treating me like I got nothing left. Like I haven't proven myself enough to you."

Spock looked to Ryhr, then stared at Jim, the disinclination pinching at Jim. Both Jim and Ryhr patiently waited. It was almost a full minute, and then Spock cleared his throat, shifting in his seat.

"I have compromised. I have sacrificed. I know this because everything else aside, there will be a day – a day in which I will mourn greatly. I could save you again and again. I could continue to look over you, but even with a hundred percent success, nature will make its appearance."

The anger from being recently left out was replaced by sorrow. Jim wanted to recoil. The words and the tightening sensations that sparked in his chest, fisting his heart, made him want to move away – like Spock was burning him.

He couldn't do that, so he stayed right where he was.

 

Spock didn't conceal his dread, each person in the room feeling it with precision. "It will remove you from my life despite all my efforts, and that will be my own loss. I cannot bring another life into ours, one that can come close enough to you, one whom will love you instantly, only to experience what I have and will experience again. It is irresponsible." He confessed the deepest source of his desolation.

For someone that requested an improvement in their communication, it was not in Jim to come up with an appropriate response to something that was the definition of melancholia. The simple imagination of the moment appeared before him like an apparition, and he trembled, seeing Spock endure another loss, especially one that will affect his bond.

It wasn't so difficult to imagine, because he previously witnessed this in its rawness on Ambassador Spock's face whenever Jim attempted to speak of his counterpart. In Delta Vega, the misplaced Spock was so confident, so damn sure, it made Jim almost believe that he could be that ghost, the key to it all, so he could remove the agony.

 

"Although it is a parent's prime wish to pass before their children, it is still the epitome of cruelty." Spock finished with a gulp, and Jim couldn't argue a fucking single thing about that.


	10. SESSION 00-5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost done. 
> 
> ~X

**SESSION 00-5**

At the end of every briefing with Captain Novelli, Jim snickered at the thought of how he used to get annoyed by being at the other side of these things, and that he was now the one conducting them. Thankfully, there were no complications on the USS Cybele’s voyage so far, and Novelli was a bottle of sunshine to boot.

Looking at his own reflection on the blank screen, he had to shovel dirt over the nostalgia of it. He couldn’t be a Captain when every person on his senior staff began a new phase of their lives. He knew that he was capable, except he couldn't ignore the void he would feel, knowing that he couldn't enjoy looking at the stars without the very people he flew along with for years. Captain Kirk didn't exist without them, and that took months to admit to himself, eventually leading to his decision to accept the high recommendations for Commodore and submit his acceptance.

 

Once the day came to an end, Jim parked his hovercraft and strolled past the automatically swooshed open door. As he took off his shoes, he noticed Spock’s door already shut. It was indeed a disappointment. With a heavy sigh, he trudged by it, making his way into his own room.

He carelessly chucked his supplies on his unmade bed, removing his uniform and anticipating the warm water that would be drizzled over his tense muscles ... and that'd be the end of his day.

Besides the gut-wrenching session this morning, it was another day in which he barely saw Spock. They worked three buildings away from the other and never took the initiative to meet up.

It was odd, but it was how they operated, both their schedules being inconsistent. Spock had his students, and he was always on a video comm of some kind with someone in New Vulcan, whereas Jim had a ship to look over along with his Earth duties.

At this rate, the idea of being Admiral, much less Vice-Admiral was unappealing, because there wouldn’t be any time with Spock. It was already enough that they barely communicated whenever Spock ventured back to New Vulcan, always being immersed in their work and struggling with the time to get a word in. The time differences did little to aid the obstacle.

With Spock's despairing words, it delivered the cold truth that in Spock’s perspective, their time together was little, and ... this was how they were spending it.

 

After his shower, Jim put on a simple white T-shirt and shorts. He moved all the items away from his bed and arranged his clothes for the next day. He placed the towel on his head, drying the damp patch of hair some more with one hand, while fixing the corner of his second blanket.

Once satisfied with his appearance and organization of the room, he put the towel away and patted his hands. He took a few steps back and closed the room door behind him.

 

He wasn’t in his room anymore, but in the dark hallway, making his way to the guest room. His feet were moving ahead before Jim truly noticed what he was doing. He kept on anyways, dedicated to this new challenge.

And as expected, Spock was out, breathing so slowly, it once terrified Jim because the pacing was so abnormal to the ears. Keeping noise to a minimum, he took a step forward. He ignored the gust of dry heat and noticed that Spock still kept to one side of the bed – The side Jim occupied on his bed.

The vacant spot was calling to Jim, and he heard it, moving the soft blanket to the side, settling into Spock’s brown silk sheets. Jim knew the dip of the mattress would wake up Spock, if not for his presence alone.

He watched Spock flutter his thick lashes, turning to Jim’s side, his eyes widening as if he was wondering if this was real or not.

“Hey.” Jim greeted with a smile, resting his head on one of the pillows.

He expected a greeting in return, but instead, Spock stared, his lips tightening.

“Earth to Spock?”

Apparently it was the wrong thing to say, for Spock jerked up, ripping off the blanket on him, placing one foot on the floor. Luckily, Jim caught one hand, catching sight of how his touch emphasized the muscles of Spock’s back through the thin shirt.

“Don’t." He didn't want Spock to walk away.

Spock’s hand tightened around Jim’s, “You are pushing yourself.” He proclaimed, still looking to the wall ahead, almost scared to face this. 

Jim wasn’t hearing it, “Sometimes, people need a decent shove in the right direction.” He didn’t wish to argue about what he wanted or not. This was his decision, and Spock had to respect it.

He laced his fingers with Spock’s, transferring his willingness to do this. There weren’t any different sensations when he kissed Spock like this, however it was important for Spock, thus important to him. He ignored that part for far too long.

He neglected mind melds and joint meditations along with it, and he intended to correct it, this being his first step.

Spock’s resigning exhale was a long one, “Then let me adjust – “

Screw the temperature. Jim yelled a massive ‘ _No_.’ in his mind, and it was heard loud and clear, Spock halting in his suggestion.

“Just stay with me.” Jim pleaded, pulling Spock closer. Spock didn’t need to change anything about the room.

 

Slowly, Spock returned to the bed, his worry still radiating but calming down nonetheless. They both rested on their backs, their fingers intertwined between them, Jim making careful sure to not caress them too much.

Spock was the first to speak in their silence, “I am concerned, Jim.”

“We both are.” He truthfully answered, knowing that Spock was speaking of their current state.

“However, I cannot deny that I find great pleasure in your company.” Spock said, still looking above. His position was so still, it was an obvious attempt to not ruin the content moment.

“You’ve missed this.” Jim elaborated on Spock’s comment with a smug, enamored by his own shocking behavior. He was starving for this just as much as Spock. This was definitely not a mistake.

Spock raised their intertwined grip, pressing his lips onto Jim’s turned palm with eyes closed. “Immensely.” He answered, his lips lingering near Jim's skin for a few moments before placing the palm on his chest.

“Me too.” Jim answered, feeling fatigue wash over him, not caring for the heat weighing on his body. Spock's kiss was something he wished could last longer, but this was safer for both of them. Instead, he endeavored to return them to a conversation uncompleted. “Spock … You have to know that although death is the epitome of cruelty, fearing it is the epitome of illogicality.”

Spock's hum went through Jim's limb as he nodded, indicating that this was a shared thought,  “In the midst of confiding you of my recent struggles, I remembered that you required ... No, yearned to discover what lurks in my mind. They are not always properly sorted out or always logical. What I have spoken were not assessed, unchecked as it exited from my lips.”

Of course with the bond, as inefficient as it was sometimes, Jim acknowledged that he had exclusive accessibility to Spock's thoughts, however it was what Spock confessed at times that reminded him exactly of how much, “The guy can do that to you.” He lightly joked.

“ _You_ did that to me.” Spock corrected, holding Jim’s hand closer, “As irrational as my fears are, I realized that it was more irrational to conceal them from you.”

“... In a way, I already knew.”

“I suspected that McCoy might have informed you – “

“I don’t need Bones to tell me about my bondmate.” Jim interjected sternly, his bundle of nerves absorbing the affection and apprehension from Spock, “I saw it on your face too many times to count. If I ever said anything about it, you would’ve denied it, further building the wall you had from me.”

“I cannot discern the actions of my past self.”

“True, but I’m confident in my deduction.” He snickered, showing that he wouldn’t be swayed any other way, “Besides, it doesn’t help that Ambassador Spock has passed. Nothing can be more cruel than that - The inevitable was shoved in our faces. In a way, we both felt it.”

“Both of us?” Spock inquired, turning towards Jim, no longer using the ceiling as a method of escapism.

Jim swallowed. To see those eyes in such close proximity was an intensity he must have forgotten. He would’ve stepped back or asked for an arm’s width again, but he couldn’t this time. For the first time in a long time, just like the hug recently, he found out that he didn’t wish to.

“At first, I didn’t know why. I assumed that after what he did to me in that cave, it would’ve been over and done with. Perhaps something remained and was dormant until one evening. I swear it was the weirdest thing.” He recounted the past event that made him reevaluate the severity of what Ambassador Spock did. “I woke up in my quarters and felt nervous. No nightmares of the kind, and it also happened only two hours into my sleep.” He began to mention the peculiar characteristics of that night, seeing Spock trying to make sense of it, his trouble seeping through. “… My fingers trembled… and somehow, I sensed something eerie floating near me that was impossible to see with the naked eye."

“Are you speaking of an apparition?” Spock asked without a hint of mockery or absurdity. It was asked with pure concern that Jim could tell that Spock wanted to stroke the side of his face, an abandoned loving gesture for good reason.

“This isn’t a ghost story.” He clarified, gazing down to their hands as he spoke, “Maybe I’m wrong, but after discovering what happened and when, my theory is that maybe that’s how he felt.”

Spock's brows furrowed, concern painting his features, “Jim, you are describing one troubling incident – “

“Then why did tears fall down my face?” He murmured. The liquid that rained down his cheeks made Jim think that he was bleeding from his head, because there was no reason to cry. None. “I got more spooked by that than the random shudder that swam through me. It's an oddity I still can't describe.” He then cleared his throat, “You know I wanted to leave the Enterprise. The added sudden depression and unknowing sadness made the walls I loved so much seem so synthetic and plain. I could barely walk down the decks. That's not me.”

And since Jim has experienced heightened empathy before with this bond in particular, they both knew it was possible.

 

Spock wanted to let go after hearing of how his mind could affect Jim, but Jim held on, the tug on his part being sufficient enough for Spock to see that he couldn’t run away. This Spock wasn’t the one at fault.

“A broken bond isn’t anything like that, I imagine, except that little sample makes me extremely worried of what you might go through. It makes sense that you fear it, Spock.”

“You do not fear it.” Spock opined, using all his years of experience to declare such a thing.

“I do for you.” And that was more than enough for both of them.

 

A sense of apology flushed through Jim’s system, the message understood without him a vessel. Fuck, he didn’t say this so Spock could be sorry.

“Diminishing this irrational aspect of my mind has been an increasingly difficult endeavor.” Spock admitted, speaking of his fear of death.

“It’s a part of you.” He reassured.

Spock shut his eyes, shame creeping into his voice. “It is a _defect_.”

“It’s human.”

“A human factor that is not comforted by the concept of an afterlife.” Spock retorted, envious that he couldn’t utilize that to his advantage.

“Who knows,” Jim did a subtle shrug, “Maybe he used it for comfort.” Maybe Spock would use it too.

 

Spock contemplated on that, turning on his back to greet the ceiling again, resting Jim’s hand with his on his chest. “If he did, it was a means to believe he could be reunited with your counterpart.”

The turn of Jim’s words was unexpected, pinching at him. There wasn’t any other option but to believe them. With a deep inhale, he moved closer to the warm body next to him after moving the blanket away.

He didn’t need one.

But he did need to say this one thing before he let himself rest. With a kiss to Spock’s shoulder, he said, “I grieve with thee.”

 


	11. SESSION 00-6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *posts chapter then runs away*
> 
> ~X

**SESSION 00-6**

Fifteen missed calls on Jim's end - Seven on Spock's.

"How does this happen?!" Jim exclaimed from his side of the bed, rolling off to scroll through his device. Connor messaged Jim about his most recent thought out worst-case scenario, which was that Jim's body was on a road somewhere. "How?!"

Spock covered one ear with clenched eyes, a sign that every micro hair received Jim's shouting in higher magnitudes, his overall posture exhibiting pain. "Any estimation from me would be inconclusive – " He stated, strolling into the wide walk-in closet, and tossed his professor blacks on the mattress from afar. "This phenomena is a rare one for me, Jim."

"Did my company just shut off your internal clock?" Jim peeked under his shirt, seeing the sweat glistening on his chest. Damn it all. He couldn't just chuck on clothes, because anything but a shower was non optional.

"Again, inconclusive." Spock answered after looking at his bright comm, "It seems that Walker has taken the initiative to begin review. It is more sufficient that I transport you before I debark for Building 08." In translation, Spock wasn't comfortable with Jim driving in a panicked frenzy.

"Fine." Jim muttered, power walking out of the room.

"Utilize the sonic settings." Spock shouted from behind him.

Jim had to comply, knowing that it would get the job done quicker.

**.**

**.**

**.**

"Could you drive a little faster?" Jim requested with an annoyed mumble, messaging Connor that he would be late, again.

Spock deliberately pressed on the brake, unfazed by Jim's growing irritation, "Would you prefer to arrive to headquarters alive?"

Because of Spock's decreased speed, a parallel hovercraft took the chance to swerve in front of them. "See what you did there?" Jim pointed to the insulting craft, "I know you're capable of maneuvering around debris of any density. Simple hovercrafts shouldn't be an issue. C'mon!"

"You have yet to improve your temperament when traveling via hovercraft." It was a lesson Spock took seriously, "Your anger is not meant for someone who is seated on the passenger seat."

"Can't help road rage." Jim weakly defended himself.

Spock arched a brow, skeptical through and through, "I will remind you again. You are a passenger, Jim. Road rage should not apply."

"It always, always applies." He responded, unable to continue in his defense because the dashboard illuminated orange, indicating an incoming call.

Once Jim looked at the name and coordinates, he instinctively darted his eyes away. The ringing went on for a moment too long, making it obvious that Spock hesitated in picking up at all.

In the end, Spock made his decision.

_"Apologies for contacting you outside of schedule, Spock."_

Jim had no idea when Suren dropped prefixes, but it rubbed him the wrong way.

Instantly, he shut his thoughts away with his measly human efforts. He yearned to be capable of succeeding in this fully, so that he could appear to have some dignity. He wasn't this petty person.

"It is of no consequence." Spock answered, picking up the speed all the sudden. "Explain the urgent matter you wish to discuss."

Jim wondered when Spock would take the call off speaker, but it never occurred. It was perplexing since it was what Spock normally did. Perhaps Spock was trying to convey to Jim that there was nothing to hide. Either way, Jim kept quiet and continued to watch the blurring scenery around him.

_"T'Pen and the rest of her flock have announced that they endeavor to cast the vote at 1300, Terran UTC time. I cannot stall it any longer."_

The last part indicated that maybe Spock was supposed to be there for that.

Welcome, guilt.

Suren's announcement was one that brought great displeasure to Spock. Hearing the faux leather of the steering wheel being gripped tighter was proof enough. "I will be available once you have initiated the conference."

_"Noted. Spock, it is no secret that her objective is to accumulate support on her dissatisfaction by your absence, and has claimed that you have taken on other priorities, not fully committed to the responsibilities required of your appointed position – "_

Jim's had to stop himself from moving his fingers to his temples from the jolt of pain. That comment was a slap in Spock's face, by proxy being a slap to Jim as well. Irritation seemed almost too banal of an emotion for Spock, and granted, he definitely appeared unaffected, except Jim had front row seats to everything.

"Any search for evidence to support her claims would be futile, for my efforts have not been hindered." Spock asserted, keeping his eyes on the road. "Her reasoning is rooted by personal matters that are redundant to me."

Personal matters could mean her dislike of humans, or Spock's human half, or Spock's choice of bondmate … all a neon sign to xenophobia.

 _"Agreed. Her actions are indeed illogical. Regardless, I am confident that for this gathering, the board will agree to our proposal for expanding the access of our newly reformed library database,"_ Suren said with all shade intended. " _Lady_ _T'Pen is anchored in our old ways."_

"Ways that have proved detrimental to our people." Spock responded with his voice still steady, the underlying contempt only heard in Jim's head.

Spock was correct as usual. The high Vulcan Library in particular was digital as well as tangible, however the digital was a set of encrypted files placed in only a dozen devices where a few had exclusive access to the material. That, and the books were destroyed on Vulcan.

Whatever could be duplicated, the majority being a collective choice and by Spock's decision, were to be made public to the average Vulcan, and most Starfleet Admirals.

 _"We are not mindlessly exposing our biological secrets and day to day reports of old war. This proposal is a method for longevity. Apparently her reasoning for this instance is that we are too young to comprehend the value and gravity of our 'own' literature – "_ Suren's dislike of the comment radiated through the speakers. _" – among other things that do not dignify mentioning."_

Spock turned the hovercraft right to merge into an oncoming road, his frown becoming a tense line. "Regardless, my vote takes precedence over the opinion, dislike and evident prejudice of Lady T'Pen."

_"This is the eleventh attempt to overthrow our developments. Perhaps it is time to expose her before council – "_

"Expose, not remove." Spock said, Jim internally agreeing instantly. This T'Pen would become a martyr for the ignorant instead of a symbol for progress.

_"Understood. However, before I take my leave, I must say that it would add great favor to our other objectives if you were indeed present."_

"Suren – " Spock interrupted, as if this was a conversation they had before. Jim knew they must have.

_"… Whenever that may be, the young ones anticipate your arrival. Live long and prosper, Spock."_

The call ended a minute away from their destination, the silence of the space eating at Jim. He ruminated on how whenever he noticed flashes of self-doubt, despite Spock's smooth tone, he could crush them with one statement. He questioned if he still had the same effect.

"There's a common Standard term for people like T'Pen," Jim began, piquing Spock's interest since Spock turned around, directing his attention to Jim.

"Do educate me, Jim." The sharp features of Spock's face softened as he answered.

"Hater." He informed.

Spock stopped before an intersection, staying a little longer than necessary in thought. It was a good thing no one honked at them. "…Someone whom is rigorously critical of a person?" He asked as he settled to park.

Almost there, but Spock's definition was missing the underlying point.

"It is also the baseless dislike of one's growing accomplishments - A sign of envy. A natural manifestation upon success." He added, designing his words to transmit his care. With a subtle grin, he unbuckled his seat-belt, the silver line automatically swinging back into the seat. "It means you're doing something right, Spock."

Spock released his hold of the wheel when Jim stepped out of the already flipped open door. The clusters of uniformed people around Jim were but a blur around him as he breathed in the cool air, ready for another day.

When Jim turned around to bend down to the window and say his farewells, he noticed an empty driver's seat, immediately peaking up to locate Spock.

Soon, Spock's warm palms were around the curve of Jim's neck, bringing him close to Spock's heated body. Struck by the instant contact, the shutter of his mind caused him to drop his bag to the cement. He didn't move as Spock pressed his forehead on his, brushing the sides of their noses together.

There were many things he knew about Spock, and Spock's dislike for public displays of affection was one he learned long ago. Feeling Spock's need to express his appreciation in this way, instead of placing their fingers together or a musing nod, was Spock's method of wanting to do something for the both of them.

Jim would have said he wasn't ready, hence the space Spock kept between their lips, ultimately waiting for Jim's decision.

"Spock …" He drawls confused. _What are you doing,_ he wanted to ask.

The fondness being channeled his way caused him to whimper, leaning into Spock's warm touch. If he thought he missed this before, then he sure missed it exponentially now, everything around him turning to dust at the thought. He only saw Spock, and he hoped to God that the need for this was his alone.

"It was just an observation," Jim whispered over Spock's lips, stunned that he still had the power to reaffirm Spock's confidence despite all their recent struggles.

And Spock looked in wonder, almost offended by the understatement, "It was _everything_."

Three words and Jim became caught by the bait, unable to resist, forgetting of their surroundings, beginning the sparks to revive this dead portion of what was. He inched forward, and very chastely, he locked his lips with Spock's, paralyzed by the hope.

He imagined how Spock used to make him unhinged, wanton for the simplest of caresses. There wasn't an inkling of the usual hesitation or nervousness in this, just the overall desire to hold on and continue like this, reminding each other of the shapes of their needy mouths as they deepened the kiss.

Jim would have said it was progress, but the truth was that the semester was over in one week. Teaching was Spock's official reason for being here, the unofficial reason being Jim.

Soon, Spock's safety blanket would be removed.

Long distant relationships were one thing, many times successful, but long distance in their predicament would be the fuel to the never-ending fire, burning down what they have made for each other. It was of little significance that he just got these soft lips back, because no matter what, Jim intuited that he couldn't keep Spock here forever.


	12. SESSION 00-7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double update!
> 
> ~X

> **SESSION 00-7**

“Make that three shots of espresso.”

“Five.”

“Three.”

Jim rolled his eyes, “Five.”

“ _Two_.”

“Ma.” Jim moaned in the café, wondering why this insufferable woman was trying to take charge of his afternoon - An afternoon that would have been spent with Spock if he didn’t decline Jim's invitation. Hopefully the vote went in Spock’s favor.

 

After a few moments of challenging silence, Jim settled for four.

Winona huffed and pointed four fingers to the barista, unsatisfied with the compromise, “I’ll have a cup of green tea, please.”

“Coming right up,” The confused barista managed a conditioned smile and began to make their drinks.

“I keep telling you to lay off that garbage.” She stressed for the millionth time.

“You don’t have the right to tell me to cut off another thing.” Jim internally groaned. “I’m meatless and at this point, I may just be dairy-less, egg-less – “ Especially if somewhere down the line he wanted visit New Vulcan, knowing that none of those would be on the planet.

Winona crossed her toned arms, looking up to her son under her new straight cut bangs, “But you did that for Spock, never considering my valuable advice.” She humored Jim by motioning to her whole yoga get-up, representing the image of peak physical health.

“Different circumstances.” Jim muttered, wanting to hit himself right when he said it, because that was exactly what he said to her before. It was literally all he could come up with as a viable excuse for why their previous dinner had to be cut short.

 

“Right … Different circumstances – Like when you basically kicked me out of your house.” The bitterness in the statement was deafening, most likely a deliberate tone. Perhaps Jim adopted his pettiness from her - Then again, it was obvious that Jim hurt her feelings.

He hated the memory; feeling disgusted with himself and almost tempted to call Spock, explaining his resurfaced dissatisfaction of that evening. “It’s hard to explain.” He choked out.

Winona did a quick look around, then lowered her voice, “You could have told me to not come at all. It’s not like you live alone anymore. Maybe a bullshit lie of busyness. Heck, even telling me that you were in the middle of sexing it up –“

“I wanted you to come, Ma.” He whined again. Hell, he was ten years old about now, with a uniform and Commodore ranking being the only indicators of reaching adulthood.

“Didn’t seem like it.” Winona expressed with a sigh, “I might have taken my leave if you didn’t say anything anyways. The tension was palpable, Jim.”

“Did I apologize to you yet?”

“An innumerable amount of times.” Winona led them to the side when the barista called for them, “And something tells me that you won’t stop. If you want me to come over again, you’re going to have to settle whatever’s going on between you and him. Until then, Mason and I have a home for you to visit. Duh. It's not like you can't see me." She added with a wholehearted smile, glistening with the joy deserving of a recently engaged woman.

Thankfully, Mason was a decent guy to be around. His mother’s suggestion wasn’t a bad one, so he considered taking up the offer sometime soon.

It was disappointing that it came to this. He let his shoulders fall, his posture losing all form of confidence. “He really tried, Ma.”

“Not enough.” Winona asserted, “Him and his father aren’t trying enough, and you deserve all the efforts in the Federation. Lord knows you’ve already dealt with a mother that didn’t try enough for most of your life.” She aired out her crimes, still ashamed, but no longer hiding from them. “This isn’t for me, but for you. You have to know that, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Good, 'cause although I may want his approval, I don’t need it. And that’s something I think you need more than me.”

It was the saddest statement his mother said yet.

**.**

**.**

**.**

Jim made sure to enter the guest room when dangling at the end of fatigue, so that he was guaranteed to sleep. He congratulated Spock on a successfully approved proposal, also apologizing for not making it for dinner. It was a perplexing duo of statements. It almost made Jim laugh at the despair.

The silence that followed was a long one, and Jim assumed it would last throughout the night. Then it didn't, because the one night he required sleep, Spock sighed, its intent an obvious one. The very sound was enough to persuade Jim that he should apologize for his unsettled reemerging thoughts.

In the next second, Jim thought - screw it. This wasn't his fault.

He was tired for feeling sorry for things he couldn't help.

“If you are attempting to conceal your troubles, I will take the liberty of informing you that you are indeed failing.” Spock announced in the dark.

Being exposed so bluntly was the last thing Jim needed, “At least give me the mirage of success.” He complained, holding onto the thin blanket above him, pulling them up as a signal that he wished to sleep.

 

If Jim truly desired to learn how to block his mind, he required training, which required mind melds, which required … **No**. Jim couldn’t do that again any time soon. He would eventually. Just not now when he had to be attentive on a daily basis. He couldn’t afford the immense fatigue and the inevitable overloading of painkillers. Jim wasn't mentally prepared to stab himself in the neck daily again.

He also preferred to identify his own emotions and control them, not randomly being altered without his doing.

“We may diminish a portion of your discontent by discussing it,” Spock suggested, looking to the ceiling like the night before.

“Another time, Spock.”

The answer was one met with grievances by Spock’s grimace, “… I may not say the correct thing, and I agree that I make things considerably worse at times – “

“Then why do you want to do this now?” Jim inquired with a plea.

“Because I wish to try.”

 

… Shit.

 

The heat and close proximity did nothing to dissipate Spock’s want for communication and bonding, one that was beyond their link – Something Jim begged for, even argued for in the past.

This was Spock listening to him, not out of the mere automatic will to oblige, but for himself as well.

“Okay,” Jim whispered, “Tomorrow, but okay.”

He couldn’t ruin the moment. Not when he still felt Spock’s lips on his from this morning. Not when he was trying to become accustomed to this sleeping arrangement.

Not when Spock was so close, and yet, could be light-years away in a blink.


	13. SESSION 06

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *flees the crime scene*
> 
> ~X

**SESSION 06**

"This is spectacular news." Ryhr reacted more animatedly than expected once he was updated of them sleeping in the same bed again. The natural follow-up topic would have been about their sex lives, or the lack of it, and they weren't ready for that yet.

Ryhr still had yet to know the truth of how the separation began.

 

So as promised, Jim mentioned another thing that made Ryhr's eyes brighten. "I'd like to return to a topic you mentioned once, but I've ignored." Rudely, even.

Ryhr blinked a few times, leaning closer to Spock and Jim, his attention on them as usual.

"Family," Jim announced, "Preferably in-laws."

The distress oozing out of Spock was the exact reason as to why Jim decided to stall the conversation until now. Spock's swallow was the only physical sign, a small whisper of the true magnitude of what was ravaging Spock's psyche. Jim couldn't have mistaken that.

"Please begin, Mr. Kirk."

"I confided in Spock about something, which I think I'm starting to regret – " Spock's hitched inhale distracted Jim for a brief second before continuing, "You see, my mother and I haven't had the best relationship, but it's improved tremendously. She's even moved from my home state to be closer to me, and she's visited my home at least once every two weeks, something we haven't done in two months."

The large space of time caused Ryhr to quickly glance at Spock, luckily lacking all accusatory undertones, "And how does Mr. Spock play into this?"

"In order for me to be near her, I have to clear my mind of all my resentment and learn that I'm my own person now, and that forgiveness is possible." He said, trying to forget the presence beside him, tapping his finger on his thigh. "I find that I … I don't know. It's like all my progress goes down the drain because all the feelings I would bury are becoming too stubborn to stay down. Then I realized … that they don't even belong to me."

Ryhr switched his eyes to Spock's direction again, narrowing them, "This isn't deliberate on your part, I'll assume."

"Affirmative." Spock answered, his right cheek forming a dimple from biting it inside. Jim bet that Spock drew blood. "Blocking our link is a practice Jim disapproves of, however, whenever I comply and avoid it at all costs, especially when in Ms. Davis' presence, Jim retrieves an unmanageable amount of stimulation, causing pain and increased empathy."

Jim clarified, "He basically revives all the hatred I haven't experienced since I was a teenager. That, along with Spock's evident dissatisfaction, I can't bring her around me at times, let alone both of us."

"It seems that it is imperative for you to improve the relationship with your mother." Ryhr observed.

"Yes," Jim affirmed.

"Then isn't the obvious solution for Mr. Spock to not be present whenever in your mother's company, or for him to halt all transference via your bond."

"It still makes me wonder why he _hates_ her to this extreme." Jim interrupted, rubbing his temples, feeling Spock's stare, "I don't, so it doesn't make any sense. Block it or not, I just want Spock to try." Spock owed him that. Bones did that for him the second Jim asked of it.

"I never claimed to ' _hate'_ her, Jim."

No, he didn't. But, "You think she's a deplorable human being."

"You are exaggerating my words –"

Jim didn't let Spock finish, "But am I wrong?"

Ryhr and Jim were both waiting for the answer.

After another tick of the clock, Jim sensed the moment when Spock's filter dissolved.

Fuck.

"… Ms. Davis is a dishonorable woman."

Ryhr's eyebrows shot up right when Jim flung his head back, covering his eyes with a palm, expecting that very answer. There was no love lost for Spock.

"You've been around worse, and treated them with dignity." He shot back, looking into the blackness of his hand.

"I have treated her with nothing but respect. I am not at fault for what you discover in my thoughts. Concealing them from you would have caused you great anger." It was a lose-lose situation in Spock's mind, and he was blaming Jim for the position he was in.

Ryhr raised a hand, "Mr. Kirk's complication is that he sees right through all respectful interactions. I'll go as far as to say it is cringe worthy."

That ticked Spock the wrong way, "She neglected him, ignored her responsibilities, and as an innocent child, exposed him to an innumerable amount of unstable relationships and sexual liaisons. The psychological damage she inflicted alone – "

"Was there any physical abuse?" Ryhr inquired, pointing to Jim.

"A spank here and there isn't abuse." Jim countered defensively, "Her boyfriends weren't always the best. They just sat around and liked their liquor. I wasn't interested so I made my own way, and my mom… did her own thing."

"Therefore a dishonorable woman." Spock repeated, not willing to argue the fact.

"I explained that she's turned a new leaf. Damn it, Spock. She's in a healthy long-term relationship now and has expressed her regret years before I met you, always trying to correct what she did." She would have been in Yorktown if Jim weren't so bitter.

The entire possible catastrophe of the Starbase reminded Jim that he was apparently thankful she wasn't there, therefore becoming a catalyst for Jim to admit to himself that he did want a better relationship.

"…It's genuine. How can I spit on someone that's sincere, Spock? I can't keep making that mistake." If anything, Jim was ecstatic that his mother found happiness and stability. The wedding soon to come excited him as well. He didn't wish to attend alone, but with the way things were now, he couldn't come with Spock either.

"There is no forgiveness for someone whom treats or treated their own blood as a burden, as a target of severe rejection, as a victim of abuse of any kind. The only answer is to expel them from society, disgraced, for their actions are the heights of illogical."

Jim could have shivered by the intensity of Spock's assertion. It was nothing like Bones said.

"Mr. Spock," Ryhr began, "This Vulcan rule also applies to humans, but not always as severely. Condemnation varies for each case, and the said child's opinion is sometimes taken into consideration. Mr. Kirk is an adult, capable of making his own decisions. He expressed extreme regret over his past decisions. Your bondmate wishes to heal for both him and his mother, and you appear to be sabotaging that. If you do not truly endeavor to change your mindset, he could resent you for it."

"It is a gradual process." Spock admitted, crossing one knee of the other, his elbow on the side of the couch. "If Jim intends for her to accompany us again, he has to accept that it is necessary to block what I can, so that when the time comes, I can reveal my toleration without affecting Jim."

"Toleration's fine. You just can't make me feel like I'm less than smart on my decision, one I've deliberated on before we even came back here. I just want her to know me, about my life, just as she taught me of hers. That includes knowing you, and maybe with time ..." Jim couldn't complete the sentence.

"Time is a valuable asset in circumstances as these." Ryhr commented, pointing his pen at Spock. "Explain your father's relationship with Mr. Kirk."

The urge to snort pushed at Jim's nostrils.

"The circumstances are different." Spock immediately said in defense. "Their relationship is… complicated."

"Every meet up is awkward."

"Cordial." Spock corrected.

"Awkward." Jim repeated, drawling the word, accentuating each syllable to stab his opinion into steel.

"He holds nothing but respect for you, Jim."

Probably the same amount of respect Spock had for Winona. "Just not enough to be with you. Heck, he thinks I robbed you from him." Jim shrugged, acting immune to the hurt. "But hey … at least I'm trying."

"By this, you are implying that my father is not." Spock retorted with a side-glance.

"Exactly." Jim swore he saw Spock's eyelids becoming heavier. It was the closest thing to an eye-roll.

"I will remind you that the first time he met you, you've rendered me emotionally compromised on a delicate mission. A deliberate heinous endeavor on your part."

"We've gone over this more times than I remember." Jim whined to the ceiling, seeing Ryhr turn to Jim with interest right beforehand.

"I will also remind you that his reluctance to accept our relationship is rooted from his care as a father. That is all. He wishes for me to cease this so that I may be spared – "

"Of this. Of what we have." Jim couldn't hate Sarek for it. Truly. Except, was it so wrong to want to lay down his position and make the man aware that he wasn't that horrible?

"Are you certain that your father doesn't come off as xenophobic?" Ryhr questioned, leaning back into his seat, erect in his position and his forehead wrinkles deepening.

"As his last remaining family member, he is invested in my well-being." Spock explained without a stutter. "It is only practical that he acknowledges that Jim is human, for it is the source of many complications. My father is not one to adopt disgraceful behavior of those he despises, those he has been subjected to listen to, feigning indifference since his marriage." He uttered, a hint of a sneer appearing on his upper lips.

Jim had to believe him, because if there was anyone to trust in regards to being shown all forms of prejudice, it was Spock.

"Does he not believe that you're strong enough to endure what he has then?" Ryhr pointed out.

"His wish for me to avoid this is not a reflection of Jim." Spock evaded the inquiry, implying as much.

"Because he _respects_ me." Jim mockingly repeated, sucking in his lips. "In his head, I'm temporary, Spock. Although my mom thinks I'm batshit crazy for what I'm doing, she not only respects it, but tries to be a part of it." There was another name that transferred between them, and that was Bones.

Bones may not have been as enthusiastic, but that was because he knew everything. Despite all of that, Bones never made Jim feel stupid for his decision and ultimately chose to be there the best way he could for him.

Spock's annoyance dissipated by the mere thought of Bones, instantly being replaced with regret, "My father knows you are not temporary – "

"Waiting for you to snap out of this phase, is equivalent to temporary." Jim stated.

Ryhr cleared his throat, massaging the bridge of his nose; "You have informed your father of your intention to remain with your bondmate correct?"

Spock swallowed, "In extreme detail."

"That's great to hear, but he has to eventually stop saying these things to you." Jim opined.

"He is my father." Spock said as if it was explanation enough. Shit, maybe Jim didn't understand the father-son relationship since he never had one. Sure, he could use Pike as a reference, but Jim wouldn't know if it was accurate enough.

Spock continued, "He has cared for me my entire life – "

"Which is why – " Jim then shut his lips, shaking his head, sucking his bottom lip. "Forget it. This is becoming repetitive."

Ryhr caught onto it, not letting it go, "Do not close off your feelings. By doing so, your anxiety will continue to rise. I advise that you take advantage of this controlled environment and discuss whatever comes to mind. You are not paranoid or less for your fears."

Jim was stuck. He couldn't turn away from this because Spock didn't in their last session. He also couldn't say it because it was just plain crazy.

Spock felt Jim's anxiety too, turning his whole body to Jim, no longer looking away, "Jim. What do you believe he will do?" He asked, his trepidation seeping through.

Jim was fucked either way.

"It don't believe it will be immediate," He began, looking at the old clock behind Ryhr, "It'll be slow. The Ambassador's opinions, meshed with my absence, meshed with the opinions of those on New Vulcan … I'm certain that it'll hit Spock one day."

"And what do you believe Spock will realize?" Ryhr inputted with a frown.

Jim didn't know if there was no turning back, or if he just didn't care to. "That maybe not only can he do better, he might do better. Because let's face it … insecurity or not and with the way things are now, if Spock were to leave for the colony again, this time, we wouldn't survive it."

For the first time, Jim aired out his fear, releasing it into the universe, not caring that by uttering them; he gave them power, realism and concrete possibility.

It was always the common assumption that the first person to crack in the room would've been Jim, and that might have been true …except Spock's emotions, weighed down by Jim's, became too much for Spock, causing him to ask for a moment in private.

As Jim sat alone with Ryhr, he wondered what happened to the force him and Spock emitted together, always feeling like there was an army behind them.

One step forward. Three steps back.

The army was vanishing.

A kindergartner could make out the math.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Election Day & I'll be posting fanfic all day to forget it.
> 
> ~X


	14. SESSION 07

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay. I'm having a hard time editing these chapters.  
> With the current events taking place, I really don't want to be near sad material.  
> But luckily this is complete, so expect a handful of updates.
> 
> Sending love to everyone, especially my US followers. Please be safe.  
> There are a lot of ignorant fools with sour souls getting bold out there. 
> 
> ~X
> 
> Warning: Dub-con elements / Pon Farr

**SESSION 07**

The crime was no longer Spock’s to hold, to judge, to contemplate, and to regret because with his confession, he gave another man the power to speak of his wrongs.  Each sting of dismay Dr. Ch'zothon emitted actually obtained the power to hurt him. Of course with a few moments of feeling Spock's emotions and comprehending the events he spoke of, the dismay vanished, replaced with an increased state of despondency. Perhaps the loss of hope was a reflection of Spock and not Dr. Ch'zothon's new point of view.  Whichever it was, Spock wanted to be rid of it.

 

Spock only let another affect him in such a way – That person being McCoy.

Any topics in relation to McCoy were barely spoken between him and Jim, for it was categorized as dangerous territory. A man Spock came to respect, a man he eventually came to see as a friend, now saw him as this primal, unthinking thing. Granted, McCoy was attempting to reconcile with Spock after their … altercation, and of course Spock followed through, however he eventually accepted that they could never return to what they once were.

Silence became the replacement of their typical jibes and teases. McCoy’s emotions were too thunderous, impossible to ignore whenever in each other’s company, despite the tight smile the doctor would show in his greetings.

Spock quickly discerned that he could not witness the false gestures, eventually requiring space that branched more and more. As expected, McCoy did not bother to express his usual complaints about it.

The worst part was that this created a form of distance between Jim and McCoy, a distance that was foreign for them. Spock knew he was at fault.

Considering the positives, there was a sense of gratefulness for seeing McCoy standing by their decision, except he was not a fool. Spock’s actions ruined the atmosphere, fracturing his relationship with the man, and by proxy, straining what Jim and McCoy had.

 

“You see yourself as a criminal.” Dr. Ch'zothon observed, his fallen features fixed, replaced by sharp ones. His judgments dissipated with each passing tick of the clock.

“I do.” Spock slowly nodded, still feeling the rings of Jim’s disappointment of not returning home last night. It was an impulsive decision for him and he dreaded the consequences.

“For five months, you have seen yourself in this light?” Dr. Ch'zothon raised a brow, “I would think not, since you remained with your bondmate, knowing that this will not be a one time occurrence.”

“How could I feel otherwise?” Spock asked as if he truly desired an answer, a solution to his predicament. “All confidence in protecting him has vanished. The psychological damage I have instilled alone makes him hesitant of the most basic of touches.”

“You were the one to have described the importance of time.” It was a simple reminder from Dr. Ch'zothon. “It would benefit you greatly to remember that, Mr. Spock.”

“Is time enough?” He required some sort of certainty that despite their troubles, things would become successful. He yearned to read a time-line - A timeline that would specify when exactly it would all return back to normal … then he wondered if Jim even remembered what their norm was like. “Time is weak when utilized without other aspects – “

“Hope, for one – “ Dr. Ch'zothon accurately pointed out.

 

Spock despised the term, always feeding him false assurances. It was disgusting to hear, for he fell for it each time, “I have lost it.”

‘Hope’ was what he clung to for his duration as First Officer of the USS Enterprise – and it was a prominent part of his journey. Now … it either abandoned him or Spock would have to acknowledge that it never existed.

He could not decide on which one he preferred. “I have endeavored to initiate forms of contact, and it has been succeeding, however – “

 

“His memory, along with yours, plus his hesitation, forces you to return to your own despair, weakening any chance at fully recuperating.”

This moment was a blaring reminder as to why Spock felt assured enough to speak of this to Dr. Ch'zothon. A Vulcan would not understand – only his father, whom would only blame Spock for his actions.

 

“I cannot blame Jim for it.” Spock pondered, attempting to place himself in Jim’s shoes, “I hurt him by utilizing my strength, simultaneously initiating multiple mind-melds with him … all of which are forced reminders that transfer to my mind with each simple encounter.” An arm’s width, Jim said.

It was not merely for Jim, but for the benefit of both of them. As Jim was recovering, Spock was drowning in guilt, a physical limitation, rendering him bedridden in grief. Communication became non-existent.

Spock was still shocked by how he became.

 

“Mr. Spock … you have accepted this fate prior to the incident. Your bondmate has accepted it, therefore you have dedicated all your efforts meditating, to create a stable foundation for your bond, so that you could prevent any possible complications – “

“Complications were inevitable.” Spock asserted, knowing this now more than ever, “The variables were not in our favor.”

He was an open book, his hands trembling by the memories of it. With one glance at the exposing gesture, Spock fisted his hands, standing up from his seat. He could not be seated and converse about something that almost shattered him.

If it were not for his sheer will, he would have remained in his personal prison indefinitely.

“Noted.” Dr. Ch'zothon nodded, turning to Spock, staring at him as Spock looked to the city below him of a planet he claimed, but did not belong in. “As I said, you solely concentrated on your preparations for what you could do to your bondmate and informed him of what to accept… but from what you are telling me, you have not spent a minute reassuring yourself that this was your path. You accepted it, but did not prepare your own mind for the pain. You should not see yourself as a criminal, for it was _consensual_."

“'Consensual' is a term you should lightly, Dr. Ch'zothon.” Spock interjected, giving a side-glance to the Betazoid before returning to the swerving hovercrafts in his view, “I recall every moment. I recall his cutting thoughts. Although I was unresponsive to them at the time, I see them for what they are.”

 

He cared for Jim along with Dr. McCoy, however each moment beside Jim was a sign that this was _wrong_.

It was against nature in every sense of the word.

He erred in thinking himself invincible to the reality of it, since it was no longer some hypothetical situation. As Dr. Ch'zothon said, Spock accepted it, but never took the time to tell himself that it was okay to look at his own reflection. It was okay to love Jim and touch him after.

It was okay.

... A fool’s dream it was.

 

He breathed in, clasping his hands behind him. “You practice a form of polytheism, correct?” Spock randomly asked out of curiosity, knowing that the majority of Betazed did.

“Indeed I do.” Dr. Ch'zothon answered with slight confusion.

“Doctor, as you may have taken notice on Terra, humans obtain a wide range of beliefs including polytheism, monotheism, agnosticism and atheism - the majority being agnosticism and monotheism. I have become acquainted with many that believe in one sacred, higher, entity. I can recall only two humans that I am acquainted with that do not, believing in many. One or many that has created them and could perhaps aid them in a form of prayer. I have heard of them speak of faith, and heard their outcries to these or one intangible life-form…”

“Are you trying to inform me that your bondmate is a religious man?”

“Not religious, however there is a foundation of set beliefs.” Spock shut his eyes, still seeing the images of Jim, afraid and weary, pushing Spock away with weakened punches to the chest, all in vain. “Never have I heard these religious pleas from Jim.”

 

Who was God? And why did Jim ask him for help?

The Spock that committed this crime had no idea whom this ‘God’ was, becoming irritated and threatened that his bondmate mentally cried out to something other than him. It made things tremendously worse.

 

“Humans tend to use these pleas as a common expression – “

“But it is also a common expression spoken in times of true fear – “ Spock could still feel his hands wringing around Jim’s fragile neck. That Spock was vexed, each rejection swimming all through his sensitive nerves. “If only Jim called out to many, instead of just one …”

Whatever they had was not enough for this Spock. Their connection could not save them.

Dr. Ch'zothon coughed, “Was there a time that death was plausible?”

Spock fixed his gaze on one hovercraft, watching its journey, biting his tongue at the query, “Five seconds. Five seconds in which I was certain that my actions would result in his death.”

“And Mr. Kirk was willing to ...continue?”

“He did, and he did not.” Mainly because Jim knew what was at stake in the middle of it, “The contradicting thought is still something Jim refuses to acknowledge. He claims to have never thought of it.” Spock continued, “He does not blame me. There is much resistance on my part to believe that."

“You are still resisting." Dr. Ch'zothon reprimanded, his monotonous voice faltering with a sharp exhale. "Mr. Kirk is endeavoring to heal, whereas you are not.”

“Of course I am.” Otherwise he would not _be_ here.

“Truly?” Dr. Ch'zothon tilted his head, skeptical in his tone, causing to Spock to turn around completely, “You were his First Officer. Your first objective is to care for Mr. Kirk, but in this endeavor, you have neglected yourself. I have sensed many things from you - regret being the most prominent. It is deeply worrying.”

 

Regret was the easiest to identify. It was something Spock learned in his years, therefore it made sense that Dr. Ch'zothon recognized it as well. He should have blocked it, but the temptation subsided for a reason unknown. He yearned for a conversation like this.

Perhaps if he considered this earlier …

 

“I based my confidence on inconclusive data. Throughout our years, despite our troubles, somehow, by some unidentified aspect, we succeed. It is a natural result whenever together, and it appears that I became dependent on it.” Spock said, “I did not have the luxury to plan nor the time my father did. Whereas my parents had five years to solidify their marital bond before my father’s time, I had two months.”

He wanted nothing but to curse the Universe when the first symptoms emerged. He could have broken objects since every cell in him was not ready. Jim was aware of the possibility, but it was discussed with the intention that this would be years ahead.

“Everything my father did was strategic, down to my birth, impregnating my mother right after so that when his time came, he would not be a threat to her – this dormant side of him being able to identify, smell and feel that this was the mother of his offspring.”

 

“Something you could not have done with Mr. Kirk, so all you had to rely on was your unique history – “

“Irresponsible.” Spock hissed to himself. “I should have never informed him.” This regret was something he doubted would dissipate. It would poison him if he let it.

“Is that why you did not return home last night?” Dr. Ch'zothon asked, “Did your bondmate’s words ring true during our last session?”

He shook his head, turning back around. He was more comfortable gazing into Terra and by hearing Dr. Ch'zothon’s smooth voice, instead of seeing those blank, invasive eyes. “Negative.”

“Is it negative because Mr. Kirk mentioned that your people and father would persuade you to leave?”

“Yes.”

“Because what Mr. Kirk does not understand is that it is not them he should be wary of - it is the war you have within yourself, correct?”

Spock did not respond, his shame being the threatening wave to eliminate all his progress. It was the most accurate deduction yet.

Dr. Ch'zothon continued, understanding Spock’s silence, “So, even if you were to heal from this, even if your bond becomes stronger, which is difficult to discern considering the problems that arise whenever tapped into, you will dread this ever occurring again. You will never be comfortable."

 

The dread was becoming cancerous, spreading all over Spock’s body.

If not for meditation, Jim’s distressed moans from the unwanted stimulation would resurface each night, becoming his lullaby. With heightened hearing, he took in each hairline fracture, the memory of the cracks spontaneously recurring in the middle of reading Suren’s latest updates.

He detested his own hands, for they were the very hands that shoved Jim’s face down into the sheets, his own mind in pain by the foreign cries. Bondmates were not _meant_ to cry.

Pon Farr could be successfully completed with a male participant, because although it was a time of mating, it would not result in pain for either participant. It has been done before and throughout Vulcan history.

However, this disadvantage was a luxury that did not belong to a human. Jim lacked the strength in every way.

 

Dr. Ch'zothon continued, “All enjoyment and love becomes clouded by this hindrance. Although you can tolerate your limitations with Mr. Kirk, and accept it for what it is, you cannot accept that this other side of you will display his dissatisfaction every few years if things do not improve. You despise the fact that this link has become nothing but a gamble.”

There was a burn behind Spock’s eyes. He blinked a few times to be rid of it, stunned by the vulnerability exuding from his reflection, “That is … that is precisely correct.” He answered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Then why do you stay?” Dr. Ch'zothon inquired with a frown Spock noticed from the window, “Is it because he saved your life?”

That was only touching the surface, “There were other options – “

 

People.

Candidates.

Potentials.

… all not Jim.

 

“And now you are considering if it was all worth it?”

“It has to be.” Spock asserted like a gullible human child that begged for something far from reach. “It must mean something. He did this for me. He does whatever he can for me. It is automatic.”

“And how do you feel about this spell you seem to have placed on him?”

 

It was suffocating.

In the midst of their free year, Spock shivered at the notice that Jim has decided to accept promotion. Jim was not meant to be here. He should have been planning another voyage, doing what he did best.

There was a time when Spock ended the day, resting in his home in the growing colony, confused by Jim’s actions. With much resistance, Spock had to face the reality that it was his decision of dedicating all his time to New Vulcan, including that of McCoy whom decided to remain with his daughter, which contributed to Jim’s decision.

At least then, Spock did not carry the entire blame.

However, when Jim’s troubling message was received, Spock discovered that he held the majority of that blame.

 

It was Spock that incautiously took this spell and transformed it into a literal force, “I do not deserve it.”

“Your bondmate believes you do.” Dr. Ch'zothon opined, his tone reminding Spock that he should not speak for, or make assumptions about Jim.

“But for how long?” Spock’s query was one he wished to ask his counterpart with each struggling day. “I have just discovered that once the USS Cybele returns in its scheduled time of eight months, he will utilize his free year. I deduce that it is to depart to New Vulcan.” It was probable that Jim wished to make this a surprise for Spock, one that should bring immense delight.

“I hear discontentment in your tone. Are you interpreting this possibility as another sacrifice on his part?”

“I must. We are both aware that this arrangement is not a permanent one. My parents have adopted this mechanism of interchanging travels throughout the duration of their courting.” And him and Jim were no longer courting the other. That was a phase long behind them. “Earth is my home, but it is imperative that my attendance be elsewhere. The time that I have spent here so far has not yet hindered my work, but it is a perpetual complication. With the current rate, it is inevitable that I will have to rescind my position if I am to continue traveling to Terra and remaining for long periods, which is what is minimally required to keep Jim satisfied.”

 

There were many things he learned from Jim since their bonding, which he thought improbable since he assumed he knew everything already. Feeling Jim’s fears through their link, ignited by the incident, he also saw much more, such as Jim’s fear of being lonely.

One could choose to be alone, such as McCoy, however there was not a being that chose to be lonely.

Loneliness was a sickness.

 

“Have you inquired as to your bondmate’s intentions, regarding his career and intended permanent home?” Dr. Ch'zothon questioned, placing his pen behind his ear, fluttering those white lashes.

“He will leave everything if need be.” Spock proclaimed, disgusted by his own influence. The recent development was enough to show Spock that Jim would ultimately decide to remain with Spock in their future.

“Mr. Spock, New Vulcan has minimal Starfleet establishments, mainly utilizing all the resources towards the occupants. All Starfleet personnel there are only meant to oversee the developments. Yes, this could be an adopted objective for Mr. Kirk, however it would have to be a temporary one. He would be limited in adopting other responsibilities and face great complications, considering his goals for reaching Admiralty. Eventually, he would have to cease his efforts.”

“And that would be equivalent to removing Jim’s identity. I should not take precedence over that. “

“You fear for his happiness … “

 

“How much of it can I remove without causing resentment?” Spock rhetorically inquired, squeezing his fists, subtle flutters of pain inching up his arms. “If he becomes a shadow of a man, will he still continue to allow me to take and take, ignoring all of my greed? “

There was an internal confession from Jim’s mind that came to Spock’s attention once, and it was the knife that sliced the little hope he had into pieces, impossible to assemble. Jim was not his mother, nor did he want to be.

Spock did not want his mother, only Jim, bur he could not ignore that it was the sacrifices she represented that Jim feared he would eventually have to imitate.

“If I severe our bond so that he can be spared, so that I can, will he perceive it as a failure? If so, it is one that solely belongs to him?” Spock asked to himself and to the world.

 

He felt trapped …

 

“You believe he will allow you to take until there is nothing left to give.” The comment was a disturbing one. “Another option is to take this sacrifice into your hands, keeping Terra as your home with the occasional visit – “

“Unlikely.” He interrupted with his stern stipulation. “With each day I remain here, my progress is threatened. One would expect unity in times of troubles, however the disagreements for the future of my people are becoming a serious impediment to accessing our full potential. Many of my objectives must become successful.”

There were no ‘if’, ‘and’, or ‘buts’.

“Ah, I see.” Dr. Ch'zothon hummed after a moment of tapping on his notepad.

Spock suddenly became paranoid by possible judgment, “This is not about pride.” He basically spat out without thought.

“I understand that this is your sense of reasoning, one that I have heard before.” Dr. Ch'zothon inched to the right, crossing his arms, blinking at Spock with all his sympathies, “What I also sense is your deep attachment to your position.”

An attachment was an understatement, “… Humans often speak of a calling. My mother often spoke of it as a night tale. It is the ultimate achievement to reach self-actualization through it, and I have steered away from what was expected of me to locate it. I have listened to this and was able to find it on the Enterprise.” And he was thankful for the life-altering, challenging and most adventurous time of his life. “This is also my calling, Doctor. This is what I wish to do until I have passed. Now I reside on New Vulcan, not as the successor for a deceased friend, not as a follower of my father, but as my own person. I can now say that this is not a mere duty to me.”

“You are sincerely anticipating the growth of this new home, and want to be implemented within every inch of it.”

This would be Spock’s legacy, and he could not deny that.

Dr. Ch'zothon continued, “Mr. Spock, I must ask … you do not wish to be here, do you?”

It was a query that they both knew the answer to.

“Your regret is becoming pronounced again.” Dr. Ch'zothon said as Spock continued to look into the city.

“...There is immense regret, for I have placed a chain on Jim with my indecisiveness, and since I no longer am – “

“Your bondmate is not a casualty in your life journey, Mr. Spock.” It was evident that Dr. Ch'zothon did not want Spock to feel as if he made the incorrect choice, but to see this as a lesson, a time when both were able to face what they wanted. “By moving on, you are allowing him to seek another that could be fully dedicated to him. Your decision will not break him.”

Spock could taste the bile climbing up his throat, “If I abandon him – “

Dr. Ch'zothon stood up, walking slowly behind Spock, his reflection becoming more pronounced. “This is not abandonment, -

Then what could Spock call this betrayal?

“It is. All of the promises I have uttered, for all the challenges and hurt I have inflicted on Jim and of those I have taken in for myself, to walk away would mean that everything I have done to him would have been for naught.”

And Dr. Ch'zothon tsked, “And that is how the universe operates, Mr. Spock. You may abhor risks but every individual has taken them. You are not special. This was your risk and there will be more in store for you.” He said shaking his head.

Spock turned his face away from Dr. Ch'zothon, hiding his scorn “I cannot accept it.”

“Then accept that this has all the ingredients of being toxic to you and your bondmate. Whichever one, you choose.”


	15. SESSION 08 - Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update!  
> Escapism comes in handy when avoiding my built-up dread for this country. 
> 
> ~X

**SESSION 08 - Part One**

To put it simply, Jim was pissed. So pissed that he smashed a half filled cup of whisky on the kitchen wall this morning. A part of him wanted to leave the mess before he left for headquarters, so that Spock could clean it up for whenever he _felt_ like coming back.

Never did Spock have work that would extend throughout the night without informing Jim. If not for this stupid link that burned into brain, he would have thought Spock was dead. The abnormal silence was deeply troubling either way.

Of course he didn’t leave the glass fragments on the ground, putting away the stupid thought as he cleaned up.

Except, he regretted the good deed when he entered Dr. Ch'zothon’s office for their session, after being unsuccessful in his attempts to locate Spock so far. He wished he’d trashed all of Spock’s items, all to pour bleach on top of it.

 

One look at Ryhr and Jim knew.

 

“When?” He spit out the query, leaning forward to narrow his eyes at the too informed Betazoid.

Ryhr sucked his bottom lip, fixing his face immediately. There was a subtle pained expression from probably the mass amount of stimulus emitting from Jim’s side, “This morning, Mr. Kirk.”

“Explains why I couldn’t reach him.” Jim robotically nodded, appearing to accept the situation when he really wanted to find Spock. What he would do when he did, he didn’t know. Shit, he didn't want to know. “Explains why he’s late.” He groaned as if there was a disagreeable acrid taste on his tongue. 

“You are distressed.”

“It’s not just mine’s, is it? But thanks for the explanation, because I’ve been feeling like this all day.” Jim jibed, almost offended by the sight of Ryhr. Then again, Ryhr wasn’t the culprit. “Did you know my team thought I was dying today? Dying!” He jerked up from his seat by the sheer force of his anger, shaking his wrists with pure agitation. “Then I had to take a hyposhot before my meeting this afternoon, when I really wanted to swing another bottle.” He added with a smile that’d fit the cruelest dictator, “Here I am, speaking of the successful treaty on Prethna X, about to cry in front of fifty officials, three hundred via video comm!”

It wouldn’t have been a career finisher if he vomited in the conference room, but it would have been a topic of discussion to hundreds of people for the next _month_.

Ryhr tsked, causing Jim to pause his paces. “I am sorry – “

“You have nothing to apologize for. It’s a stupid human sentiment to say sorry for things you have had no part in. I know you want to relate to your human clientele, but don’t adopt this behavior. It’s silly.”

Ryhr appeared unfazed by the bark, “It shows caring and sympathy – “

“You’re _literally_ an emphathic.” Therefore, stupid apologies weren’t needed.

“I will keep that in mind.” Ryhr smoothly responded, more passive than before, watching Jim shake his head, not uttering a word until Jim returned to his seat with a huff. Thankfully, he didn't say anything along the lines of ' _You are displacing you anger towards me, a being whom has the same abilities that are now rendering you to face these unwanted emotions.'_

Jim knew he was being an ass at this point. “Sorry … I’m just trying to keep it together. Spock … he didn’t come back last night. At least he talked to you.” He guessed that maybe it was a good thing. He didn’t want Spock to endure his struggles alone, and although he would have preferred Spock to talk to him, Spock was speaking to someone.

“Well… for confirmation, Mr. Kirk, your bondmate has informed me of something that I now believe to be the missing puzzle piece to the rift that has manifested in your relationship. I now see the root of your hesitation for not wanting to participate in a mind-meld with Mr. Spock.”

“Yeah ..."

“It is not just the physical pain, but the memories, I’m assuming.”

“Bad combination.” Jim rubbed his temples, leaning on the couch to get more comfortable. Soon he would release the tension from his muscles. “Migraine at best. Sometimes … “ Fuck, he couldn’t answer.

How did one explain that his head was being set on fire?

 

“I will assume you were hospitalized?” Ryhr scribbled on the little pad.

“No.” Jim answered with a defeated sigh, feeling a brief phantom pain by the reminder, “I had my best friend check on me and provide me with the necessary medications. It wasn’t severe enough to be admitted,” Which was a variable answer since Jim could tolerate more than the average citizen. Regardless, he had all around care in his home.

Ryhr had a moment of pause, “Your best friend is licensed to give you such opinions, I hope.”

"Yes." A bitter chuckle escaped him. "I forgot to include that. Just nervous, I guess.”

“Well justified, I assure you.” Ryhr said, surprisingly not looking at Jim like he was some fragile little thing anymore. “Not only is there more healing required, there has to be an acceptance that this will happen again, Mr. Kirk. They go hand in hand. I have to ask you, are you prepared for that?

Jim rubbed his sleepless eyes, wanting to recoil into nothing, “If I said ‘ _yes_ ’, would you pull that glum face you do?”

Ryhr didn’t miss a beat, “Most likely.”

The reality of it was undeniable on both parts, “Because it wouldn’t be true... would it?”

For the first time in their session, Ryhr tapped on his notepad, avoiding eye contact. The stall between them was so that Ryhr could think, and all he could conclude with absolute certainly was this – “I know … I know that you would move mountains for it to be true, Mr. Kirk.” He said, either showing signs of sadness by his own emotions or by his empathy.

 

It would be true if Jim were guaranteed that everything between Jim and Spock would settle. If he could spontaneously satisfy Spock in ways beyond capable of him, then what was down the line wouldn’t matter as much.

He needed guarantees.

He was frightened, yes – but he was before.

It could be done.

Possibly.

 

Jim nodded, growing more depressed by a possible cruel outcome that resurfaced at least once a day. “I would move those mountains with my bare hands.”

Bare hands, swimming in sweat and with bloodied feet.

“Mr. Kirk, if you could describe the current state of your relationship in one word, what would it be?”

Spock wasn’t here yet, so Jim said what he would never say to Spock’s face, despite the obvious fact that it was sensed many times between them before.

 

Magnetic

Captivating

Enchanting.

 

None of those were the answer anymore.

 

“Enervating.”


	16. SESSION 08 - Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> I apologize for the long delay. I recently had to get a tooth bonded, and I've been in pain ever since.  
> Pain, pain, and pain.  
> Thank all the creators of painkillers this Thanksgiving!
> 
> I wasn't confident with this chapter, so I had to edit like a mad person once I became coherent enough.
> 
> Anyways, less than a handful of chapters left. Will update again really soon!
> 
> Much love,
> 
> ~X

**SESSION 08 - Part Two**

Jim scooted to his side of the couch, not uttering a word, irrationally jealous that although he knew Spock felt like a mess, he didn't look like it at all. It wasn't fair.

Spock sat down as if he didn't commit any wrongdoings, uttered a quick apology, stating that there was an emergency he had to deal with. Obviously, this emergency had to do with New Vulcan despite the fact that Spock didn't explain an inch of it. Jim just had a feeling, for he knew that look, seeing it many times before.

There was a subtle glance towards Jim's way, which he completely ignored. He knew Spock was checking to see if Jim was okay. In his opinion, if Spock were actually worried about that, he would have returned last night.

If anything, Jim really hoped that no one from his team spoke of his fatigued and green state, because word would undoubtedly travel. One incident was okay, however he knew he had enough of it to become a pattern. Like when he spontaneously requested personal time without any warning …

 

The clock ticked in the room, each tick signaling another climb in the ladder of awkwardness. All remained pinned on a certain item in the room, whereas Ryhr kept his icy eyes on his two clients.

Another tick, then the other, then another until the latest one was accompanied with a buzz. There was a pinch to Jim's right side, a poor reflection of the one Spock was most probably feeling.

With a sigh, Spock took the comm out of his pocket, flicked it open near his right thigh, then shut it again – way harder than needed too. Jim was tempted to check if the screen was cracked because of that, confused as to why Spock misplaced his emotions onto the object, something he never, never did.

Heck, Spock might have adopted the behavior from him. This was a two way street at times.

He didn't necessarily know how to feel about that particular flaw being reflected before him.

 

"Mr. Spock. " Ryhr called out to the distracted Vulcan with a hint of reprimand.

Jim placed his elbow on the side of the couch, resting his cheek on his formed fist, raising a brow at Spock as if unbothered.

"Shall we begin?" Spock calmly suggested, tapping his index finger on his crossed leg, which was a gesture Jim knew the man did when thoroughly annoyed. See, he didn't need this link at times.

Another ring, and Jim thought he saw Ryhr almost roll his eyes. Of course, if he pointed it out, the Betazoid would have denied it.

Surprisingly, Spock took out the comm and shut the device completely off.

"You know any emergency takes precedence over this." Jim could handle it. He was a big boy. "It's okay, Spock."

Spock blinked a few times as if to reconsider, but ultimately decided against it, tucking the intruding device away, "The situation has subsided."

Jim knew it didn't. He just knew that whatever the issue was, Spock was not the only qualified person to handle it. Spock had allies, all brought together by a common cause. So, Spock let this one go.

 

The silence of this room became the personal hell for anyone with an anxiety disorder, acute or not. Spock continued to tap, whereas Ryhr was patiently waiting for someone to just speak, barely affected by the atmosphere.

 _'Where were you?'_ was the question that repeated in Jim's head over and over. He was damn sure Spock could hear it, so why wasn't Spock saying a thing about it?

 

There were times when Jim experienced second-hand embarrassment, and this was the perfect environment to ignite that. This couldn't go on forever, because Jim would have rather melted into the floor.

 

Then the unexpected happened.

 

"There are many things I have done that brought great dissatisfaction to you since the moment we first became acquainted," Spock began with a gulp, "Each of them becoming a learning experience. All my harmful or offensive actions were never deliberate, however I admit that not returning home to you, or informing you of my intent, was an action I knew would bring displeasure with certainty."

"Then why did you do it?" Jim spit out the inquiry, shaking his foot with a pattern.

"Every moment of my time is demanded from me." Spock sadly admitted, "I required solace, for there was much for me to deliberate."

Jim understood that. He really did, except a simple call would have changed things drastically. It would have given him a morphed version of peace, and that was better than nothing.

A cruel response threatened to escape, such as ' _Noted_ ' or something of the like. Instead, Jim said, "That's not the only reason why I'm displeased, Spock."

"I am aware." Spock responded, as if unsure of how to proceed. He parted his lips then shut them again, uncertain - a common expression as of late.

"For one, you've apparently taken the initiative to inform Dr. Ch'zothon yourself of the ... the unordinary portion of our relationship"

Spock appeared genuinely surprised, "I assumed that you would have preferred to avoid it – "

"Just because I felt like wanting to avoid it, doesn't mean I would have." Shit, if that were how he really operated, chickening out at every chance, he wouldn't be where he was now. "We were supposed to do it together."

It didn't matter anymore though.

The deed was done.

"Jim, " Spock said, his voice lowered and all cool, "I also wished to speak to Dr. Ch'zothon separately, our discussion pertaining other matters."

"Then just say that next time." Jim sighed, tired of the same old misunderstandings. "You can't just think for me."

Ryhr looked to each of them, switching his troubled gaze, "Did you not properly discuss this prior to your decision?" He asked them.

"We did." Jim shrugged, claiming their previous argument as an excuse for a proper discussion.

Spock didn't respond to that, conveying Jim's answer by his silence.

"And what happened?" Ryhr asked, wondering why they weren't expressing the details.

Spock replied with a subtle shrug similar to Jim's, "It ended rather … abruptly."

Ryhr then accurately interpreted their meaning, "Oh."

"Yeah." Jim nodded, both his lips sucked in.

"I see." Ryhr breathed out, thankfully not showing his obvious disappointment, "As a quick reminder, it is most beneficial to have a mutually agreed upon compromise prior to ending any discussion. That way, miscommunication can be avoided. Humans have a saying that one should not sleep angry. It is one that has merit."

Jim used to follow this philosophy. He didn't know when it became forgotten, and it hurt to be faced with another thing he couldn't keep up with. If only Ryhr knew that sometimes their conversations had to end abruptly simply because it was like talking to a brick wall.

 

"Forty-nine times." Spock blurted out.

"What?" Jim broadcasted his confusion the same time as Ryhr.

"Our discussions come to an abrupt conclusion because I am not in favor of being in the presence of someone who perpetually compares me to an inanimate structure –"

Spock smoothly delivered the stab, still tapping his finger. He gave Jim a quick side-eye glance, one of quick acknowledgment but of irritation as well " - a 'brick wall' being his particular favorite, utilizing that the most. In total, forty-nine times."

"That's not fair."

"Each time I believe you have abandoned this degrading mentality, you display it again." Spock stated with a hiss, "You see, it is not fair for me either."

And that went straight to the gut. One couldn't blame Jim for his reaction, feeling the need to defend himself.

"Are you being serious?" He scoffed in disbelief, acidic in his tone.

"Mr. Kirk – you cannot fault your bondmate for his reaction to your insults."

"He makes it sound like I verbally abuse him." He wasn't having that label placed on him, 'cause he wasn't that person. "A brick wall is a term used for someone who is unable to listen, in case you didn't know."

Spock practically winced, "I listen."

"You hear. That's not the same." He clarified, "You pick and choose things from any monologue and reassess them, using meshed thoughts from my head in the process - You coming here and speaking with Dr. Ch'zothon, for example." He had to look away as he said this, "Listen, come and speak to him all you like but I thought it was obvious that I wanted to speak about _this_ together."

He returned to the topic because it was the most recent event linked to a long chain of similar ones. This had to be the last.

"You just stated that you did not wish to do it, therefore how was I supposed to deduce such an intent." Spock told him, "By no means was it obvious – "

"Because I knew it was going to be tough - "

"Precisely." Spock's brows knitted together, as if wondering why Jim was proving his point, instead of defending his own. He was clearly out of his element here.

Jim covered his face, huffing out expletives at the unbelievable display he just witnessed. He couldn't believe that he had to justify this.

He couldn't believe that Spock's presence was completely void of comforting warmth. He couldn't believe that this was how they were.

 

"Mr. Spock, I believe he is attempting to explain to you that it is for that very reason he preferred to do it with you. A tough or complicated endeavor is something he would not let you complete on your own." Ryhr translated Jim's thoughts. "He wished to show support."

 

How in the world could Spock not know that? Serving together for years, never letting the other complete away mission together, never approaching a delicate diplomatic scenario together, never allowing the other go down unless it was to go down together -

… How in the _hell_ did Spock not know that?

"Perhaps prior to the incident, you acknowledged that Mr. Kirk could endure such complicated situations, but you appear to see him as something else now …" Ryhr started to expose Jim's pit of gathered fears.

Fragile.

The proper word was ' _fragile_ '.

"Either way," Ryhr continued, "You seem to have forgotten Mr. Kirk's most basic principles."

"Or he assumed they exclusively applied to hostile natives on a non Federation planet." Jim added, still not mustering the courage to look Spock's way.

"It appears I have," Spock paused with a gulp, feeling physically pained when Jim shifted away again, "Misconstrued – "

"You think?" He could literally hear his heart pounding.

"Mr. Kirk." Ryhr put his hand up, not liking how Jim was rubbing it in.

"His irritation is justified." Spock opined, appearing unaffected when the other two in the room knew otherwise. He looked to be erased of all the hurt, and Jim knew it had to be some form of sorcery to achieve that, "I admit, it is as though we are speaking different languages. The fault is mine for once again not asking your intentions." Spock finished.

If a statement like that was coming from the linguist, Jim knew that there would be no conclusion to the issue - At least not now.

"I am satisfied that you are not being dismissive. You appear to be genuine in your response, Mr. Spock?" Ryhr observed with his head slightly tilted. "It will benefit you greatly to speak to Mr. Kirk from now on, prior to acting on your assumptions."

"I will endeavor to do so."

 

The correct answer was _'I will,'_ not _'I will endeavor to do so.'_

 

Jim shook it off, waving his hand, wanting to discuss anything but this.

"We will return to this, and I will know if you are keeping to your promise, Mr. Spock." Ryhr lightly warned, receiving an obliging nod from Spock in response. "Now, the next thing we would like to tackle, I believe would be resuming sexual contact. It may not be today or tomorrow or months down the line, since it depends on each individual, but it is time that you two ceased this tip-toeing you tend to do and properly discuss it."

"We've returned to the same bed." Jim offered up the progressive information with pride.

"Yes, so I take this to mean that you were the one whom decided to tolerate the new norm of environment." Ryhr said.

"Like I said, my issue isn't biological. It's only logical that I be the one to do this." Jim answered, being okay with his decision with each night. He put into his mind that this was the way it would be from now on.

"Have you returned your items back into the room, Mr. Spock?"

"I have not." Spock answered, slightly confused by the inquiry.

Ryhr blinked, "And why have you been procrastinating in this?"

"There is _nothing_ for me to move." Spock responded, perking up a brow, looking to Jim for a second as if asking him to properly explain.

Ryhr pointed to each of them, trying to make sense of this, "I was informed that you were the one to have moved to the guest room."

Jim scratched the back of his neck, knowing that he needed to sort this out really quick, "No … I'm sleeping there with him."

Ryhr's pale lips parted very slightly, shaping an 'O', "And why have you taken this route instead of Mr. Spock returning back into the master – "

"I don't know." He truthfully answered, "I just climbed in there one night … and stayed there."

"I would say that it's just a bed, and a bed is a bed – however does that not give off a temporary atmosphere?" Ryhr pondered out loud, wondering why he was the only one to have brought it up.

The Betazoid was right though … it felt temporary.

"Then this is the route we will take." Spock said, uncrossing his legs then leaning a bit forward. "We will no longer procrastinate the necessary alteration."

Jim's posture faltered when he heard Spock's automatic comply.

"… Mr. Kirk, now that I am informed of all matters, I'm going to discern that you are hesitant with sexual contact."

"He is." Spock answered for Jim.

Jim sighed at that, too enervated to be ashamed, "It's not like I'm scared of _you_ , Spock."

"Flinches and automatic retraction are an indication of being afraid."

"It's the memories. And stop denying that we're improving." Jim interjected with wave to his hand, "I was okay with you kissing me just recently -"

"And you have refused any contact since – "

"It doesn't mean I regret what I agreed to." He interjected, cutting himself off before his words became a glass-shaking shout. He had to cast his gaze down, because Ryhr's look of doubt was a reflection of something inside him that he didn't want to acknowledge.

"Because the other option was worse." Ryhr said, trying to catch Jim's eyes.

"Yes."

Spock leaned back, crossing his leg again. "Jim is referring to my death, which was not the case since there were others willing – "

"Bullshit." He cursed loud enough to cause a pause into a statement he was most definitely not going to listen to.

"And you have had copulations with Mr. Spock beforehand, so you were comfortable with this portion of the concept." Ryhr aired for clarification, giving the them chance to intervene if need be, "Therefore you could see yourself completing everything else required. Correct?"

"Yes. Like, who in their right mind lets their significant other run off to fuck some other person?" The very idea of that was preposterous then and it was now. "Sad thing is it wasn't that simple. He would have had to bond with someone else beforehand. ... What option did I have?"

"You are speaking as if you were trapped." Ryhr implied.

 

Spock's frown deepened as he stared at the clock. Jim could feel all the remorse and hate with clarity, causing the beginnings of a headache. Spock must have been concealing a portion of it, the rest leaking through. Another faulty feature of what they had.

Or maybe Spock was becoming too weak.

Or maybe Spock was actually listening to Jim and not trying to hide.

He didn't know ...

 

His throat became dry, "I weighed the cons and pros. I assessed what I was willing to lose – "

"We were not prepared for it nonetheless." Spock muttered his input, very unlike him.

"We could have been." The accusatory tone sat there between them, clear as a cloudless sky.

It was then that Spock scoffed, his lips curving a little, "If you are referring to your previous asinine suggestion that we _practice_ – "

That was exactly was he was insinuating. "Then it wouldn't have been so … so -"

"Traumatizing." Ryhr finished.

 

"No." Spock shut his eyes, not wanting to hear of Jim's reasoning, "There was _nothing_ to practice. Physical pain is something Jim can and has withstood in the past. However, the bone of contention is rooted by the very fact that _I_ am the one that would have inflicted the pain, along with the psychological strain, which eventually took place outside of my control. Just as I was endeavoring to avoid, everything about me is now synonymous with hurt."

That was the sound of a man that realized that all his efforts were futile in the end.

It was defeat.

"Dammit, Spock – "

"Also, the pain that you truly fear is the one inflicted upon the mind, a pain that is all but foreign and agonizing. Preparation in that sense has foundered."

The blame of it was unquestionable. Ryhr widened his eyes - stunned that Spock said this at all.

"Mr. Spock, you are well aware of the consequences your bondmate has to endure – "

"So this is my fault?" Jim narrowed his eyes at Spock, pointing to his own chest, deaf to Ryhr's defense, "Because mind melds …hurt me?"

Spock shook his head, "I am only endeavoring to reaffirm that ' _practice_ ' on either part was an impossible concept."

"I was willing to continue – "

 

Jim knew he fucked up the moment he said it. The screech in his head, and the perked bleached brow of Ryhr was evidence enough. Spock huff was a loud one, his disappointment vibrating through the seams of the leather couch.

"And after five attempts, and one suggestion from me that we cease indefinitely, you agreed." Spock pointed out the statement he expressed long ago, which was one that he might have contemplated long and hard on if it weren't for Jim's excruciating groans as he held his head like it would fall off, "Without thought or sincere deliberation, you walked away. Regardless of my wishes, there is nothing more self-explanatory than that."

 

Ryhr slammed his notepad on the shoulder of his couch, "Then you two should have understood that tackling this on either aspect was impossible. There was literally no method of preparation for this, and in that, I am sorry. However, you two should acknowledge that what has happened, has passed.

Instead of pushing the impossible, preparation should have been directed towards building your relationship, creating a solid foundation so that when the time came, you could survive this." He lectured with a stern gaze, "The acute and false agreements you both have settled with when it came to Pon Farr, mind melds, children, family, future professional occupations, distance, all vital, should not have taken place. You both consistently attempt to avoid imperative issues, always taking them lightly, ultimately placing a bandage – all temporary, all dismissive. You knew this was coming, and yet did not settle a single problem beforehand."

 

It was that tone that made it clear to both of them that maybe their ship has sailed - They just weren't on it.

They both treated their relationship with extreme fragility, never expressing the growing concern of its state to each other. They may have been doing it now, except perhaps it was too late.

 

"I have seen marriages collapse from selfishness, but never have I seen one so severely wounded from total and loyal selflessness. You forget yourselves. At times, this can be a benefiting characteristic, but not when done perpetually. Now, you are both facing the brutal truth of what you really desire." Ryhr paused for a moment, seeing the dark atmosphere becoming more opaque by each word. "Tonight, please ask yourself – What is it you desire, and can your bondmate offer it? Is he capable of offering it?"

 

Jim couldn't articulate a thought, hearing the words ' _You'_ and _'I desire you'_ from Spock despite his weakening heart. He heard more soon after, trembling when the dissipating adoration was replaced with _'Surak, why?'_

"And please – do not answer this vital inquiry with the love you have for one another." Ryhr icy voice, like his eyes, cut through their link, "Love can thrive, but only with work. Alone, and it is weak."

 

What could Jim dub this feeling? This feeling of all his achievements, all his efforts, and all his aspirations was becoming dust – vanishing under the pressure of reality.

Whatever the answer was, it was obvious that Spock didn't know it either. Nonetheless, he hated it with all of his katra.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *runs away*


	17. SESSION 00-8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double Update!!
> 
> Warning: Sexual Content / Mentions of Dub-Con
> 
> ~X
> 
> *chugs coffee and painkillers. deuces.*

**SESSION 00-8**

Four deep breaths - Jim took four deep ones as he stood before his home's front door. Seeing as everything was satisfactory with the Cybele, since they were about to begin their well deserved shore leave, and considering that he didn't attend the second meeting regarding Prethna X - concerning its religious limitations for originally hesitating in joining the Federation, he decided to cast aside the rest of his other responsibilities for the day.

He couldn’t continue as is, the very thought of Spock making him want to seek isolation from the world.

It was supposed to be a packed day, so much that when they scheduled a session in the middle of today, Jim was the one that would have suffered the most from it. Of course there were priorities to consider, their relationship being lost somewhere in there, so Jim accepted the scheduling, wanting to place it where it rightfully belonged.

 

Once he entered his house, he heard Spock talking with his earpiece, mixing a drink for himself. Spock gracefully raised a finger, continuing his discussion, his Vulcan becoming more quipped, his dissatisfaction bouncing off the white walls.

Spock would be done soon without a doubt, so Jim took to taking a shower and cleaning the day’s sweat off. As the water coated his strained muscles, he could smell something citric with cinnamon. He scrubbed his body vigorously with the intention to discover its source as soon as possible.

 

He clumsily staggered when the cold air caressed his drying skin, his micro hairs sticking up - then he took to drying himself, throwing on some clothes from the mini closet in front of the toilet.

He chose simple grey sweatpants and a navy shirt, intending it to also be his night attire.

 

There wasn’t a hint of surprise to be found when Jim noticed the fruit slices next to the maple cashew cream with hot tea on the side. He knew he smelled something.

 

“You are early.” Spock spoke from the door, arms crossed, leaning on the side with earpiece still on but off, “And you are – “ Spock then shut his lips.

Jim knew Spock was going to point out that he was troubled, again. Spock was learning by not airing it out as per his usual decorum, “You’re right.” He wryly smiled, “When am I not?”

“It has been a constant state for me as well.” Spock confessed with tense lips and saddened eyes that appeared to be glistening in the dim light. “Please do eat. You tend to deny your hunger when troubled.”

And Jim was indeed in need of a snack. He neglected his rumbling stomach since this morning, dreading the session, then contemplating it the rest of the day.

So Jim obliged, sitting down in his made bed, the one he hasn’t slept in for a while, and grabbed the mug, letting the warmth spread all over his chest and through his hands.

After a sip, he patted the side of his bed, indicating that Spock should sit down next to him.

It was a quiet that was not alarming for once. Jim took to drinking the aroma filled beverage without uttering a word. Something was different between them.

It’s safe to say that both didn’t want to ruin this comfort – and it was incredibly disheartening to say that it was a rare thing overall.

Halfway through his drink, Jim took a bite of one of the apple slices, chewing away as Spock sat still, catatonic for fear of what consequences his actions could result.

 

Jim’s eyes slipped closed. He had to be the one to break this. After finishing two more slices, he hummed, “This is the part when we would ask about each other’s day.”

Spock exhaled slowly, “Then we would agree upon a date in which we would visit the Sulus.”

The quick response followed Jim's path - it was safe.

“Then we’d complain about wanting a day off because each visit is a challenge for us.” Jim remembered how he would whine about it, demanding that they both have a vacation, knowing that the very idea of it was an improbable one for at least the next year. They both had work that they took home. None were a nine to five.

Spock murmured, looking down to his lap, “Then you would challenge me to a chess game, spouting confidence and ignoring that I have become victor in sixty-two percent of our matches.”

The topic of chess was a desolating one, for it was a reminder of how much time they _haven’t_ spent together. “It’s been sixty-two percent for almost half a year.”

There was a low hum as Spock nodded, “Yes, it has.”

Jim changed the topic instantly, going down the list of their usual activities, all of which they previously took for granted, “Then if you didn't already mention it, you would describe your day’s lesson to me.”

“Indeed.” Spock followed suit, caressing Jim’s wrist in the space between them, a thin but daring touch, “Then I would proceed to test you on your Vulcan vocabulary.”

“I’m still studying.” He informed, still wondering how he found the time to shove a few words in here and there, regretting that he never took the language seriously in the Academy.

“I am aware.” Spock cooed like a proud parent. “For one, you understood the majority of my call.”

“I tried to not eavesdrop.” Fortunately this wasn’t a problem forged from his jealousy or anything of the like. It already existed, therefore not another hindrance between them. It was innocent curiosity. Simple.

“It is as natural to you as breathing.” Spock replied gently.

“True.” Jim admitted, finishing off a carrot and taking a bite of another one before taking a sip of his tea, the liquid relaxing the nerves of his clenching abdomens. “Then we would watch the news, or read – no matter what it is, it’s together.” He continued, finishing the rest of the tea.

“Then I would – “ Spock’s whole body tensed up as he exhaled. With a fisted pat fixed on his own thighs, he acknowledged that he just shifted the atmosphere with a remorseful grimace, “We should cease this game.” He whispered, standing up and willing to retreat.

 

Noticing the short opportunity, Jim then slammed the mug on the nightstand with one hand, while grabbing Spock’s wrist with the other. Just in time too.

Spock was caught, unwilling to move when he could if he really wanted to. But he didn’t want to, did he …

Jim erected himself up, placing a palm on Spock’s chest. “Say it.” He demanded with all the authority he could muster. God, he was freakin trembling as Spock looked at him like he was this creature that needed to be cradled. He wanted to hit Spock for it, and that is exactly what he imagined as he tightened his hand over the soft fabric.

 

“You are pushing.” It was an observation, except it was spoken in a manner expressive of a man being spread thin.

“Just say it.” Jim interjected, iterating his desire to hear the words, not thinking about the caution Spock broadcasted through his solemn stare.

Spock’s lower lip quivered as he cleared his throat. He squinted, unmoving. “Then I … then I touch you.”

Jim reveled in it, but for some reason, it just wasn’t enough, “Then you fuck me like the very act gives you breathable air – “

Spock turned his face away, his gulp a physical movement on his throat, “Why are you provoking me?”

“Because this is becoming stupid.” He truthfully responded, sinking his hand further down Spock’s torso, still having a tight grip on Spock’s wrist.

He detested how he constantly allowed his mind to prevent something that was so important and so gratifying between them.

 

“Your mind captivates me, Jim. We may have our limitations, however, I ask that you do not deprecate the very thing I cherish.” Spock smoothly reminded Jim of that very fact.

It was always Spock’s endearments that made Jim reconsider his actions – but he wouldn’t let that happen this time.

“Your feelings are a part of you, therefore not stupid.”

 

“Don’t care.” He said instead of denying it as he normally would. With his intentions clear, he gripped to Spock’s waistband, stretching it with force, bringing their noses close enough to brush together. “Fix it.” He breathed over Spock’s mouth.

“You are requesting that I consume your emotions.” Spock discerned, now gripping Jim’s waist along his body. “You do not comprehend the gravity of your request.”

“Maybe I don’t,” He hummed, feeling the heat emanate from Spock from all the obscene images he conjured through his mind. “Maybe I do.”

 

Red Alert.

Retreat.

Abandon Ship.

 

Those words were painted over the ones that floated around without a destination. They never had the chance to escape. With their contact, Jim made his way to the border and began to form fissures.

Spock released himself of Jim’s hold, and just when Jim thought it was so that he could leave, the familiar sensation of touch filled him.

Spock kept one hand on Jim’s waist, but his other hand now wrapped Jim’s cheek as he hid his face in the crevice of Jim’s neck.

 

Claim.

Love.

Hold.

 

“Leave me be.”

 

Jim had no clue if that plea applied to this moment or to their entire relationship. He didn't intend to find out.

 

“Do you think of me?”

How could he let Spock go?

How?

“All those nights alone – Do you think of me under you?” The taunting teases dripped from his tongue, relishing in Spock’s squirm. A few centimeters down, and Jim had Spock’s hardening organ hostage, feeling Spock part his lips over his skin with a gasp, “If only you knew how much I miss your mouth. Fuck, you owned every part of me.”

Spock replied with a hitched groan, involuntarily moving his hips with each stroke of Jim’s skilled hand, his own cock unexpectedly thickening from the echoed sounds of sheer want.

“If only you knew how tight I am for you – “

 

That must have been enough, for Spock seized Jim’s face with both his hands, crashing their lips together, catching Jim breathless. He followed Spock’s eager movements, moving his lips along the familiar ones over his. This was the comfort he recognized, just as he did outside of the Academy when they did this.

Pleasure coiled in Spock instantly, and by proxy, it raised inside Jim, clouding his better judgment. He missed the way Spock would bend him to his whim so effortlessly, grazing his teeth over heated skin. It was a hypnotic state, as they would forget time, slow touches building on impetuous.

He inhaled suddenly right before Spock’s tongue made its introduction, the sensation causing a tremble. It was like Spock forgot that Jim needed to actually breathe, and it was like Jim forgot to care. He could have continued like this until blue.

 

Breathless.

Blue.

An Impending End.

 

Then Jim froze as a result of being faced with the very memory that he did almost turn blue before. Blue and thrashing for air, thinking that this breath was his last. He could feel the cells dying around his lungs as it shriveled from neglect.

 

Oh, shit –

 

With a violent push, Spock stood over Jim’s body on the mattress, raking his unkempt hair with his fingers, huffing with an exasperated irritation that was directed towards himself and the Universe.

The triumph was short lived.

Jim’s never seen someone go limp that fast before. He was so consumed by the shock and the sudden flash, he blurted out a shout when he noticed that Spock was making his way to the exit by pure reflex.

He was not hiding his frustration this time. “You sanctimonious prick!”

But was it really frustration? Maybe it was his irrational fear that if Spock walked out that door, he would disappear.

The prominent muscles of Spock’s back tensing up and the halt in his step were the screeches that made Jim swallow his words. He anxiously waited, sitting up now, certain that his blood was boiling when he should have been retracting on his actions, expressing his sincere regret.

 

The profound rejection and the scorn being sent his way translated into an overwhelming shudder through Jim’s body.

“ _Never_ do that again.” Spock’s voice was that of death, that it made Jim have forebodings about attempting this again.

But of course he refused to back down, trying to forget how Spock’s tone actually galled him, “What? Giving you what you want?”

“ _This_ is not what I want.” Spock declared, placating his arms wide, “For you to assume that I would find satisfaction in taking advantage of your empathy, manipulating you so that you can reflect my emotions is beyond insulting. It is the very thing I vowed to avoid.”

“But it could help – “ It was his last hope for fuck’s sake.

“It scares you.” Spock pointed out, exposing Jim for his fears, looking like he could weep from being faced with the undeniable lengths Jim would go for a inkling of progress, “Knowing that I can mold you with what we have terrifies you, despite the trust you have. If I remind you of it in excruciating detail - You. Would. Run.”

 

“And you don’t want to run?” Jim retorted, ignoring the accuracy in Spock’s deduction, “My God, I can’t even try to make things better without you making me feel like shit for it.”

“There is enough guilt between us.” Spock shook his head, blowing out a gust of air. He didn’t want to make feel Jim like shit intentionally. It just ... happened, “Any more, then this is irreparable.”

“… How long can we go on like this?” Jim asked, his shoulders slouched and all efforts expended. He was so weak from the stress of this.

This was the part when Spock usually answered that they had all the time in the world.

 

Instead, Spock quietly made his way towards Jim, who was curling into himself on the mattress, as if gravity was holding him down - when in actuality, it was just the hurt.

He was too numb to feel delighted by Spock’s continued presence, knowing that this normally would have ended in sleeping in separate beds and followed by anxious mornings. There wasn’t any discussion of temperature, or any attempt to put the covers on. Spock whispered his love, softly moving his hand over Jim’s forearm as they shifted closer. Jim moaned with piteous gratitude.

He tried to settle his ache, except it was an impossible task because Spock’s ache was stronger, the collision a deafening one – He swore he felt something crack.

They were returning into their personal dark caves. Just as Jim became affected by the memories, he had to remember that he wasn’t the only one.

 

The ticking that Jim heard in his head for the last week somehow stopped. It stopped ticking. It was abnormal to begin with, however it was always a comfort to hear it ticking, a sign of guaranteed continuity.

Its spontaneous absence was far from reassuring.

 


	18. SESSION 00-9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Sexual Content / Non-Con / Dub-Con (whichever you prefer) 
> 
> *throws away computer*
> 
> ~X

**SESSION 00-9**

_Depleted._

_Expended._

_Drained._

 

_He felt them in every sense. He lost count of how many times this person had held him as if he was this weightless piece of paper, taking him over and over._

_This wasn’t Spock._

_Spock would have listened, cooed and stroked him with care. No, this Spock was hungry, climbing over Jim’s body with primal furtherance, sniffing him, biting wherever he could._

_He always prided himself in keeping physique and obtaining a decent amount of strength. Except, as he shoved his palms towards Spock’s chest, pushing away, pleading to be left to recuperate for a little moment, the desolating realization kicked in that his strength was laughable when compared to Spock’s._

_The first time Spock pulled him to the edge of their bed by his calves, the sheets ripped from the sides of the mattress, the shredded seams following Jim’s body. He opened his mouth and quickly filled his lungs, seeing that by the rays of light hitting Spock’s disarranged strands of hair, it was almost a freakin’ new day._

 

_Jim remained still while Spock’s fingers traveled up his thighs, returning to the forming bruises, reviving the pain that he almost forgot because of his clouded fatigue. It was Spock that told him that if Jim wanted to do this, then he couldn’t struggle, for a single squirm could make Spock hold onto Jim tighter without managing his grip, causing a possible broken bone._

_Like the good student Jim was, his compliance of that lesson was what made sure he only had bruises, something he was grateful for. The first second he feared that there would be more than that was when Spock buried his face in Jim’s hair, pressing his fingers onto Jim’s temples, almost growling with dissatisfaction._

_It couldn’t have been more evident that something was wrong._

_Pon Farr was a time of mating and thorough connection, and Spock told Jim that what they had wasn’t deemed adequate enough to quench the urges that would manifest during this time. Something this natural to Vulcans, a time of intense intimacy, a time to guarantee reproduction, was rendered dangerous for Jim._

_But what was there to do? Jim literally blocked the exit of his house when Spock decided that this wasn’t meant for him._

_Spock's reasoning was simple. At least when this occurred for Spock’s father, he was mated for five years, and Spock was already born – a strategic catalyst used to increase the growth of their connection through time. Although Spock’s parents disappeared with each cycle, Spock confided in Jim about his mother’s complications whenever she returned._

_Spock wasn't over exaggerating either._

 

_This Spock above Jim was not just causing pain to his body, but was also stabbing at the impenetrable borders of Jim’s mind, desperate to enter paths that could never be created in the human mind._

_God, he screamed._

_He could withstand Spock locking his limbs to the mattress, flipping him with ease and the constant penetration, but every moment in when they pushed at surpassing the limits of his mind caused every nerve to fire up._

_His Spock would have rather felt the emptiness than bothered to go through with this, except that was the point … this wasn’t his Spock._

 

_Spock released him, and yanked one of Jim’s thighs up, moving his hips closer to align with Jim’s orifice. The most peculiar part of this whole thing was that with each merciless fuck, no matter how used and sore he felt, he wanted it._

_He didn’t know how, considering that it shouldn't have been physically possible, unless he unknowingly ingested some enhancers. So how was his cock throbbing, despite being placate just seconds before? His sensitive raw skin begged for a few moments of peace. All thoughts were warring, each clash heard from the battlefield._

_If only Spock could fall asleep again, Jim could grab one of his hyposhots._

_Jim called to him, raising his hand to touch the hypnotized face of his bondmate, and just like last time, Spock slapped it away. It didn’t take a genius to discern as to why Jim’s touch wasn’t allowed._

_Spock could only touch him, except oddly enough, never kissed Jim in either form. No, this Spock hated the reminder of how Jim’s touch to his face and kiss to his fingers were … dull._

 

_Maybe Spock would have been nicer. Maybe this would have been shorter. Maybe this wouldn’t have been painful at all._

_Maybe if Jim let Spock walk out, then this would have been an easier process for Spock._

_But there were no maybes to consider, just the firm solid inevitability of Spock hating himself after this._

**.**

**.**

**.**

An hour past midnight, cold sweat over his skin, Jim called and called in the darkness of his room, trying to not stare at the empty section beside him.

 

“Come back.” Jim ordered in the first message.

“I don’t know if you’re doing this for space, but if you think you’re doing this for me, then know that I want you back here now,” said Jim in the second message, feeling disgusted by the tremble on his voice.

“Call me, Spock. Now.” Jim demanded in the fourth message.

By the sixth, he was tempted to throw his comm across the room. “For fuck’s sake, we have to talk about this!” He didn’t want Spock to endure this alone. The charge of Spock’s misery munching at his own brain terrified him.

It hurt.

By God, it was tearing at his mind.

 

Running with one thing in mind, Jim searched for his emergency stash of hyposhots. The cabinet under the sink of his bedroom washroom was his safe place for all of it. Quickly, he removed the basket of basic toiletries, and then stretched his shaking hand inside the tight space with half of his face brushing the metal corners.

With a bitten tongue, he felt the cold familiar cylinder shape along his fingers and couldn't have grabbed it any faster. There was no thought put into it when he stabbed his neck. Another time, he would have chosen a bottle, but when Spock returned, he would need to be aware.

 

… Once Jim reached the ninth message, he was curled up in the corner of Spock's sauna of a bedroom, pulling his knees to his chest. He was a mumbling mess when the clocks hit 0448.

He couldn’t pinpoint exactly where Spock was, but he could tell that he was too far – Probably out of the city. The one thing that prevented Jim from going into a full frenzied panic attack was that Spock’s items were still in the house. It looked undisturbed.

Realistically, Spock would have to come back.

 

“I should have told him to sleep in his room,” Jim reprimanded himself, jabbing his temple with his comm. “But no, Jim. You just had to show all that shit. You just had to fucking – “

The raging curses became strangled in his throat. This was a pivotal moment to decide the kind of person he wanted to be. Since there was literally nothing he could do to locate Spock, he decided that he wouldn’t weep.

 

He wouldn’t crumble.

He wouldn’t give in.


	19. SESSION 00-10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Sexual Content / Non-Con / Dub-Con (whichever you prefer)
> 
> *retrieves computer from garbage. pours soda on it.*
> 
> ~X

**SESSION 00-10**

It was the drugs he pumped in his veins.

It had to be, for Jim felt **_nothing_**. There wasn’t a single sense of Spock lurking in his mind, and that was what finally threw all his calm out the window. Unfortunately, Jim had to go by his day, displaying perfect smiles to his acquaintances, and even going as far as to laugh at one of Connor’s jokes, all while feeling the dread of something brewing underneath. Whereas this early morning when Jim could discern that Spock was far away, this time he didn’t have that same ability.

 

With nothing to go on, he chose to believe that Spock was here, or somewhere near - preferably in his office. So the moment he dismissed himself to grab something to eat, he used it as an opportunity to drive to Spock’s supposed location. The Academy.

The urge to speed was itching at him, except Spock’s usual reprimand echoed in his head, enforcing him to follow safety. He survived a five-year mission, so it would be in his best interest to not suddenly meet his demise in a hovercraft.

 

Of course Jim’s defense was that there was the automatic brake at his disposal, always prepared to take over the system in a situation of calculated extreme risk. Regardless, Spock didn't budge.

In Spock’s perspective, if there were some way for that to fail, Jim would find it in some manner.

 

Once parked, Jim could say that returning to campus was a bit awkward. The stares directed his way by the red cadets, and the subtle whispers on the side were why he avoided this place. Luckily, his famous status didn't exist much in HQ.

Apparently, that wasn’t the case here.

He strolled into Building 08, and made his way towards Spock’s office. With each step, he missed the times when he could just ask the computer of where the hell that Vulcan was. Now he had to look around like a headless chicken, nodding to the cadets as he walked.

 

Finally at his destination, Jim waited. The sensors were supposed to notify Spock of Jim’s presence and yet, he didn’t hear an ‘ _enter_ ’.

“Hello?” Jim said, preventing the automatic gesture of scratching the back of his neck because of how stupid he was looking. So he stood with his arms down.

 

Another minute in, Jim knocked.

Another minute void of an answer was a minute too long.

 

Jim checked his comm to do another call, then paused, noticing the time on the top of the screen. This time, he didn’t prevent himself from looking stupid, groaning loud as he wiped his cheek.

By the sole of his foot, he twirled his body to the right to trod through the near hallway, catching a peek of another set of students paying particular attention to him. He did a quick wave, pacing just a little bit faster, making sure as to not appear fidgety.

 

“Well if it isn’t Mr. I-Won't-Shut-Up-In-Lecture.”

 

Jim couldn’t have rolled his eyes farther back. He halted in his step, a smile forming on his face no matter how hard he tried to fight it.

His mother was his first hate-love relationship.

Bones was his second.

Professor Commander Abraham Singh was his third before Spock.

 

The aging man had the most perfect set of teeth surrounded by the whitest beard Jim’s ever seen, appearing like fresh fallen snow. He then noticed the professor’s bald, glistening head and widened his eyes.

“How’s the Earth life treating you, young man?” Mr. Singh whole-heartedly cheesed, his eyes closing in the process, accentuating his newly forming crow's feet.

Jim normally would have felt irked by the absence of rank from an older man, because they mainly did it out of spite, however, Mr. Singh was more than allowed.

His stupid grin remained, feeling the warmth of Mr. Singh’s hand on his shoulder. “Natural gravity couldn’t be better, sir.”

 

In the presence of his long-time professor, the one who always followed Jim’s track record, always harassing him down the hallways, made him feel like that cadet again.

“I’m glad you made it safe, Kirk. It's something I always wanted to tell you personally.” Mr. Singh retracted his hand, nodding with great satisfaction, that any being that witnessed it could feel the joy emanating within their veins.

Telepathy be damned.

This was a genuine human emotion, and for once, Jim wasn’t in doubt about it or questioning it.

 

“Everyone wanted to jump on that ship of yours, and I told them they were losing sense like how I was losing hair.” The professor tsked, “I wasn’t sure you’d make it back at some points. I didn’t tolerate you, just so you could disappear in the vastness of space.”

“I’m right where I need to be.” He forced a smile, regretting his words instantly.

 

Then again ... it was his truth.

 

“Good.” Mr. Singh answered with pursed lips, taking one step back and clasping his hands behind his back, erecting his posture. “’Cause there are great things in store for you within Starfleet, _Commodore_ Kirk.”

Every inch of heating redness that climbed up his neck and cheek was felt, and it was then that Jim scratched the back of his neck. Bones would have spit in abdomen clenching guffaws in both of their faces, just as he did when Jim ran away from Mr. Singh many times long ago.

“You should say hello more often," said Mr. Singh, shaking his index finger with a raised brow. “Perhaps a guest appearance? You must have something valuable to share. I’m afraid all our credibility and naturally derived excitement is diminishing with age."

Jim had to laugh at that, the snort being inevitable.

Mr. Singh continued, “You’re fresh. You’re still relevant. Use it once in a while. ”

“I will most definitely consider that, sir.” He admitted, genuine in his answer. It would be a fun experience for sure.

With an exchanged smile, Mr. Singh took his leave, never one to have long conversations.

 

It was exactly what Jim needed as he made his way to Spock’s current class location, lecture hall 002 in the Linguistics department.

By the trickling of cadets walking out, Jim knew he came just in time, lecture being complete. If that were not the case, he was willing to sit out here and wait, not wanting to screw up the whole aura with his presence.

Spock would positively go green from the giggles of cadets, since their relationship was common knowledge now. It was just a rarity to be near each other as much, always apart. Heck, they barely ever drove together, unless it was absolutely necessary … which was messed up, now that Jim thought about it.

Then again it was practical, considering the different destinations.

 

As more students walked out, Jim decided that it was time to walk inside, giving greeting nods to a few.

Just when hope was starting to reintroduce herself, she ran away when Jim noticed Lieutenant Commander Walker putting one of his two PADDs in his wide bag.

 

What.

The.

Hell.

 

“Ah, Commodore James Kirk – I did not expect you to make an appearance.” Walker said, his rosy chubby cheeks always making him seem approachable. “Well, since you’re here, I’ll give you the papers. I’m assuming Mr. Spock sent you.”

No, Spock didn’t, “Papers?” He asked, hiding his shock.

“It's odd. I told him I would send it instead." Walker pondered out loud, not noticing Jim's twitch. "Anyways, I requested that I alter the extra credit question. It seems that there are so many significant points that could be brought up, so I made a list of all the possible ones and would like to know how to grade each one considering their value, since some mention historic aspects as well as the evolution of the root words, which I’m sure he cares more for – “

“I’m sorry?” Jim blinked a few times too many, thankful for the lack of audience. “You are the one distributing the exams?”

“He asked me to. Who else is going to do it?” Walker chuckled, “Yesterday was Mr. Spock’s last day of lecture of course.”

A million shouting and earth quaking queries cut through his mind. If he asked, then he would look like he didn’t know.

Jim refused to be embarrassed, so he simply nodded, using every diplomatic technique he had in his bag.

“I expected as much with his personal related tasks. He cut short four classes this month alone, so we were playing catch up during review.” Walker spoke on, oblivious to Jim’s internal war. “I have to ask, is he sick again? The first time he came to my office, you know, in the beginning of the semester – Mr. Spock appeared to be really, really tired. Now he’s growing fatigued again, so perhaps he caught the bug again?”

“He’s not sick, no.” Jim answered like a total fool.

Walker sighed, relieved. “Good. Then I guess it’s just the workload. Guess Vulcans aren’t so invincible after all, aren’t I right?” He said as a teasing joke, but Jim didn’t respond, the whole thing dying a rotten slow death.

Walker cleared his throat and passed the neatly stacked papers to Jim. The mood completely shifted. “Well, I’m sure you’ll tell him to get some rest. He can’t keep working like that. Poor man."

**.**

**.**

**.**

 

Road rage fueled him with each turn back home. Adif and Connor expressed their concerns regarding Jim's silent and shifted behavior right before he announced that he had to leave. This has happened between them before, except it was a result of something derived from their link.

At least this time, it was purely on Jim’s account.

 

He barged into his house and marched into Spock’s room. His dread remained despite the fact that everything was still untouched. In the end, it confirmed Jim's thoughts.

 

Spock had that much decency.

_Years._

They’ve known each other for years, so if Spock wanted to do this, he wouldn’t do it behind Jim’s back.

Not in this universe.

 

Not in this _fucking_ universe.

**.**

**.**

**.**

_With Jim’s face buried into the pillow, he was far past wincing, biting his tongue raw as he fought against Spock’s grip to gasp for air._

_He had to remind himself to be as still as a statue, Spock’s previous warning ringing in his head. He listened and nodded back then, thinking that it was possible, but by the third hour … or at least what he presumed to have been the third hour, he knew it wouldn’t be so easy. His reflexes fought him, his body seeing Spock as a threat to his being._

_This Spock wasn’t combing Jim’s hair through his fingers, or smoothly trailing his fingers over Jim’s skin, but always being excessively harsh._

_Maybe this was punishment for his meager mind, for this Spock never bothered with general care. This Spock never spoke, groaning and moving not with, but into Jim’s body like the ancestors of a species no longer primitive._

_Teeth started to break skin, especially his shoulders. This Spock favored his shoulders, Jim being thankful that it was not his thighs, since those were painted with blue and purple hand prints._

_With fatigue usually being a rarity for Spock, this Spock fell asleep every eight hours or so, giving Jim a brief moment to wash off the sweat and dried cum off his body. It would hurt to get out of the bed, except it had to be done, especially since he wasn’t one to favor body odor. He also wished to use the water pressure to provide some much-needed relief.  
_

_Whenever he did this, he had to make careful sure to not be more than five minutes, because the last time Jim took a shower that would’ve been his normal length of time, Spock found him, more pissed as ever.  
_

_The pain of being grabbed and inconsiderately fucked on the tiles, his limp cock being senselessly rubbed between their stomachs, created a pain that would remind Jim of failing to abide by ‘Lesson One’._

_Don't disappear._

_‘Lesson Two’ was that if Spock woke up, wanting to reach for Jim’s fingers, he had to do his best to distract Spock from the endeavor so that Spock’s dissatisfaction wouldn’t cause another session that could cause extensive damage._

 

_Before, he had to acknowledge that Spock would hate himself. Now, it was that, and Jim also had to admit that he couldn’t do this again. He just ... couldn't.  
_

_It was playing with fire to ever think such a thought, thus proving all of Spock's previous arguments. It was playing with fire when he succumbed to the fact that Spock could hear this. He would continue to play with fire by forgetting it completely, that if Spock ever mentioned it outside of this, he would deny it._

 

_By choosing to continue as is, that was also playing with fire._

 

_He wanted to burn._

_He wanted to flee._

 

_It was a dangerous uncertainty._

 

_Which brought him to the last lesson._

_‘Lesson Three’ – Don’t think of retrieving help …_

_Not even from God.  
_


	20. SESSION 00-11 Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Spock.
> 
> *grabs mjölnir and stares at computer.*
> 
> ~X

**SESSION 00-11 Part One**

The alarm beeped, the swishing of the front door following soon after. Jim found the will to place his cup of water down to the floor, picking his body up to march into the living room with his silver uniform still on.

Expecting Spock to acknowledge him with a blank stare or mutter Jim’s name like he normally did with a confident sway in his step, he observed that Spock was the very opposite of that this time.

In fact, Spock’s appearance was … unsettling. His hair wasn’t in its usual perfect place, a few strands straying away. The corners of his eyes were tinted green, the bottom of his eyes puffed.

Jim murmured a curse. There was no mistaking what he saw. He yearned to iterate his recently acquired knowledge to wring Spock out of this stupor, however, this image before him prevented him from saying such a thing. So he took a silent step forward.

 

Spock automatically reacted by taking a step back, raising a hand up as if alarmed, “Cease treading closer, Jim.”

Struck by the order, Jim’s body complied, feeling a strong grip keeping him still.

_I barely feel you._

 

“When were you going to tell me?”

No answer.

 

This was something they knew was looming over both their heads, but Jim always thought Spock would have the integrity to talk to him about it first before beginning the steps required to permanently settle his Earth duties, “It’s one nightmare, Spock.”

“I felt it,” said Spock with a sniff, glaring at the floor like it was the very thing that caused him wrong, “I saw it.”

“Then it was a _vivid_ dream.” He interjected louder. He didn’t need Spock to make this more than what it was.

Spock wiped his face, making his way to one of the couches in three long strides.

 

Wanting to get a closer look at Spock’s face, Jim took to seating across from him with narrowed eyes. Dreading Spock’s next words, Jim bit his bottom lip … waiting. The ticks in his head were still absent, and he internally called to them. The silence of it all was torturous.

As Spock continued to part and close his mouth, he realized that Spock was actually speechless. Jim wished he had the ability to just observe the inner workings of Spock's mind.

But he was only human.

 

When Spock finally said Jim's name in a light whisper, it conjured a shiver through his body. It was then that he knew he couldn't do this. He was ready to say his negations, except nothing rolled off his tongue. This was becoming too real to him.

Perhaps Spock was experiencing this sudden halt in mental functions as well. There was no doubt that Spock was actually prepared to do this before he entered. Either way, he sure wasn’t now - just like Jim.

 

He couldn’t have this conversation.

 

There was a meek whisper in Jim's head, suggesting that he bring up Walker’s extra credit question … anything to distract them from this.

Chess was also a good idea.

 

Fuck, he should have gone to a hotel. Why did he wait here like some monkey?

No wonder Spock disappeared.

“Jim – “

Oh shit, he could have jumped if not for the tense muscles keeping him still. He wanted to be civil. Truly. He wanted to be the adult he was, but he decided that he couldn’t do it.

“My wish is for that dream to never reoccur, however I cannot control if it will. But what I can control is – “

Yep, he definitely couldn’t do this. “Can we forget this?” His voice was slipping. “Can we forget it all?”

Spock’s eyes slightly widened, looking up to Jim with a frown.

A strained smile appeared on Jim’s face, displaying this forced hope that was sizzling out – its time now over. “Can we forget this conversation you’re trying to have?”

“Prolonging this will not stop me,” Spock announced, as if he didn’t just squeeze Jim’s heart with his bare hands.

The words forced Jim into a stupefied state, blinking in his spot.

He wanted Spock to get out, for he feared what he would say or do to either make Spock hate him, or appear as this torn up doll.

And that was when Spock stood up. “I have meditated on this. I have also blocked what I can on both ends. I will warn you, there will be fluctuating and unpredictable sensations, but I have no doubt that it will dissipate. Currently, there is not much that I hear, however, with your current state, there are and will be minimal thoughts transferred as a result of heightened emotions.”

Spock sounded so clinical.

So cold.

Jim covered his eyes, another expletive coming out of his mouth. Profanity was the language of the day.

“You have requested that I leave.” Spock revealed, “Naturally I would comply, except you have voiced out your dislike of the automatic behavior. Now, I ask you, do you wish for me to comply?”

It could have ended with the title ‘ _Captain_ ’, and Jim loathed it.

Spock’s ultimatum was clear.

Either confirm his internal wish for Spock to leave, which was incorrectly presumed  to be an indefinite leave, or gather the courage to have this conversation and discuss this.

Apparently Jim didn’t answer fast enough. He heard the shuffles of Spock’s footsteps behind him, instantly discerning that Spock was heading to his own room, and it was most definitely not to sleep.

Understanding Spock’s intentions, Jim snapped.

This was definitely not going to take place under his watch, not after what they’ve endured to get to this point. They couldn’t possibly go any lower, and Spock was willing to walk away from him.

Spock had to have known that Jim would resort to this. It was the only reason he was acting with haste.

 

“You don’t get to be all sad and sacrificial after one nightmare, Spock.” Jim declared, chasing after Spock and entering the closet, ignoring the sting the light did to his sensitive and daresay watering eyes.

Spock began to unzip one of the two suitcases he frequently used to travel back and forth to New Vulcan, “I can tolerate many things, you calling me weak is one of them, except – “

Jim didn't let Spock finish, cutting in with gritted teeth, “When did I _ever_ call you weak?”

Spock bottom jaw shifted to the left, “Sixty-three hours ago – “

Jim couldn’t believe his ears, because that meant he did this recently, which he would have remembered, since he never called Spock that. Then it occurred to him, and it wasn’t even him that remembered, because Spock willingly or unwillingly transferred him the blaring message, “… At the other session?”

“When you claimed that I could be brainwashed by my peers and father.” Spock started to unzip the second one with precision, “That I would abandon you per their advice – “

Jim’s lungs were reaching overcapacity, so he blew out a gust air as he groaned, “From what I see, you’re pretty much doing that now!”

“This is not abandonment!” Spock ripped a hanger down, and covered his eyes so he didn’t have to see the mess he just caused, “- I am acknowledging that this charade has to end, for as I said, I can tolerate many things, some I continue to question if I truly can, but the hurt I have caused you is something I have allowed myself to demean for the hope that we can move on, when in actuality, it is unforgivable and will reoccur again.”

No, Spock wasn’t going to get away with this.

 

This was not the reality they were promised.

 

“I let you mope for _months_.” The muscles on Jim’s face tightened as he hissed his undying frustration, “I let you leave my bed.” He could see a vision of himself kicking Spock for that alone. “I let you _ignore_ me again and again. There wasn’t one time that I made you feel at fault for what happened. What’s worse is that after all the bruises and marks healed, I couldn’t talk to you about how I felt because I was tiptoeing around you! _You_ , Spock!” There was no stopping Jim, accepting all the stabs he sent Spock’s way, feeling the damage onto himself by default and not giving a thorough fuck about it.

“You were the one that was in need of space. I merely took the initiative so you would not have to– “

“Screw that! We both knew what we were getting into, and you couldn’t handle it. It wasn’t some massive surprise. And after how I let you be without complaint, I deserve one fucking nightmare!”

Spock released his hold of the binders he picked up moments before, and let them fall into the suitcase, organization being of little concern and his face of stone. “Why do you continue to lie to me?”

What? “What are you talking about?”

“ _One_ nightmare?” The question was one that seemed like Spock was testing out as if it was foreign term. “Flashes arise to the surface every time I come closer than an arm’s width to you. You hesitate whenever I reach out to you. I can refrain from sex however long you wish, but the mere thought of entering your vicinity terrifies you. My presence literally hinders your well-being – "

“Because things take time.” He felt his sense slipping. He could shout and alarm the entire neighborhood if he really wanted to. “What more do you need? We sleep together and you’ve touched me more this week than in the last few months. We. Are. Improving.”

The last word caused Spock to shake his head, “And it is that ‘ _improvement’_ that has sparked this subconscious re-visitation – “

“Subconscious, Spock. Don’t blame me for that.” Jim cut in with an aggravated yell, “Seriously, you had just asked me to give you time when it came to your dad. You’re so damn hypocritical!”

The shouted insult caused Spock’s jaw to fall for a second, picking it back up instantaneously as if he wasn’t attacked by it, “The time required for recuperation would be in vain. The cycle will repeat.” The dread engulfed the room whole. Spock wasn’t confident of what could occur in their next incidents, if there would be any. “It will repeat. How could we endure that when… it broke you.”

Spock’s eyes then met his, and Jim could see the extra shine in them, all desperate syllables clogged in his throat.

“It broke _me_." Spock finished.

Jim wanted to be rid of this entire evening because if Spock were simply doing this for Jim, he could hate him. If Spock was doing this for himself too, then Jim could not, because that would be too cruel. He knew it all along, except to hear the shattered admission was enough to make Jim weak in the knees.

“…But we’ll … we’ll … we have to be at a better place by then.” He pathetically pointed out. “We have to be.”

With another pang of pain, Jim watched Spock bend down to arrange the binders to the side, “The very concept is laughable when we are unable to meld together – “ Therefore there was no way to improve this bond – what they had was the best it would ever be. “We - you are without protection.”

Spock was so close to grinding Jim’s hope to ashes, Jim hoped that it was a tactic of making him go along with this awful plight, “You’re blaming me again– “

“You are not the one to blame.” Spock clarified, sighing deeply, “Any sane man would avoid it.” He confessed, letting his body just sit and rest on the floor. Spock would rather stare into the suitcase instead of Jim.

With a quick cursor glance, seeing the certainty in Spock’s face, Jim nodded with a shrug. He had literally blocked the exit from Spock before. One could only sink down so low once in their life.

“Fine.” He resigned his efforts, this time accepting Spock’s anguish, letting it thicken with his own.

 

There were two reasons to leave the walk-in closet.

 

One - if Jim stood here any longer, he might expel the little content he had in his stomach.

Two - if he further provoked Spock, his head would ring for days, proving Spock’s point in detail.

 

So he took his leave from the anxiety filled space and sucked in the colder air that flowed through the rest of the house, making his way onto the living room couch. Five taps on the floor later, he sprung up and made his way into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of half finished Van Gogh Vodka along with some random coffee mug.

Dropping his weight back onto the seat again, he poured himself two … six fingers and listened to the shuffling taking place behind him.

He wasn’t much of a drinker, however this was the year that turned him into one. He officially couldn’t bother Bones about this particular habit anymore. How could he? Numbness was way more preferable than acknowledging absolute failure.


	21. SESSION 00-11 Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double Update!!!
> 
> *commences to smashing.*
> 
> ~X

**SESSION 00-11 Part Two**

It took all of five minutes for Spock to walk out his room and just float by Jim’s side like some troubled apparition. Spock’s immense contrite about the whole thing was something that should’ve made Jim relieved, because it was sort of like a sign of hope. Then he realized that it wasn’t that Spock felt regret about his actions, but that he greatly erred in his method, the intention still remaining poisonously clear.

The connection between them made that ironically easy to discern, and Jim wanted it gone so that he could cling onto a fraction of that sizzling hope for the smallest of seconds.

 

This was not the reality they were promised.

 

Deep inside, he knew Spock wouldn’t be the first to speak, so he swirled his cup, looking ahead into the kitchen, and delivered a thorough sting. “I wouldn’t have gone through with all of this if I had thought you were going to walk out on me.” Thankfully, Spock’s emotions were becoming more numb as Jim took another swing. “Maybe … Maybe this is just the excuse you needed to leave me. I mean this bond should diminish over time, and your dad could help. Lord knows he’ll _jump_ at the opportunity… At least I’ll be lucky enough to not become some vegetable.”

It was then that Spock took three large strides in Jim’s direction, grabbing the insulting cup, causing some of the contents to spill on the sides. Spock slammed that and the bottle on the edge of the table, right before he sat on the transparent surface, facing Jim with a determined glare.

“A few minutes of heightened sensitivity and you are already actively endeavoring to become inebriated. Again.” Spock said, which was the first time he mentioned anything about Jim’s drinking. “And you sincerely expect to endure a lifetime of this?”

“And that’s my choice – “ Jim opined, completely frustrated by Spock’s do good tendencies, always acting and flaunting his righteousness.

“One that will transform you into a degenerate dipsomaniac – “

And that was the last thing Jim allowed Spock to say in regards to what he chose to do when shit came to shove. He jerked up from his seat.

He didn’t manage to get away though, since Spock had his hands gripped on Jim’s forearms over his sleeves. The tight grasp caused a wince, and the pain of it ignited a small whine.

If it was a little bit tighter, it could have bruised.

It was unfortunate that Jim couldn’t prevent the weak sound that expelled from him.

Right then, an unknown word was hissed under Spock’s breath as he immediately let go, covering his face with his hands, exhaling as Jim marched away. He tried to forget exactly how much shooting pain that touch had the capabilities of causing.

Jim knew that in that moment, he royally screwed up.

“It is imperative that you understand.” Spock uttered, not wanting Jim to hate him for this. This had to be mutual.

“You don’t get to have your cake and eat it too.” Jim delivered the cruel statement with a burn, blinking away the transparent coating developing on his corneas. There was just so much built up anger inside, and he didn’t know where it was coming from. It was probably Spock. It was probably both of them. “You don’t get to make this about you.”

 

Maybe it was a long-time coming.

The worst part was that he was angry at the situation, not at Spock.

 

Spock remained still, looking into his own palms, “You are intentionally taunting me – “

“Fuck you.” Today was a day of firsts, and sending a direct expletive insult towards Spock was one of them.

Spock did not conceal his throbbing misery, the sensation fluctuating at extremes as if he didn’t have the strength to fully hide it, failing in random intervals. “This is what needs to be done for both of us.” The underlying message was clear, and it was that they were not compatible. “We cannot accommodate each other forever. I am not alone in this realization."

Jim hated that he didn’t drink enough to get rid of the burn in his throat, so he swallowed, hoping the saliva could be of some aid, “For both of us … right. Then I guess I should just go on ahead, flutter my lashes for a bit and bring someone home.” The wash of indignation was a pure one, sparking the fear he thought long dissipated.

Spock’s quick glare of intense disapproval could have literally been a dagger to his person - reverberating, sharpening echoes of pain.

“At least then, I wouldn’t have to worry if they’ll puncture my lungs with my ribs.”

 

He should have expected it.

Those degrading words, along with the added material that was a sore spot for Spock, were not going to pass.

 

Spock’s hands were instantly on Jim shoulders, leading him to the wall – all indications that Jim was correct. He was stunned that he wasn't outright shoved.

“Your fear is a fraction of our issues, and yet it is a significant one.” Spock viciously husked into Jim’s ears, breaking all of their usual barriers, stepping into Jim’s space without care to state his message. “Do not diminish what I have done to you with ease when it has splintered everything we have built together – “

“Then make me snap out of it.” Jim firmly demanded, fisting Spock’s shirt, turning Spock’s statement to his advantage by pulling him closer. “Make me want you. It wouldn’t be some lie,” He stated, feeling Spock’s shaking breath along his skin. He propelled his hips forward for more heated contact. “ …Because we both know I do … so just speed up this agonizing process.” He wasn’t supposed to do this again. It was of no matter anyways, because he wanted to so desperately make Spock think of this as some re-calibration, like he was some machine.

He was willing to do anything to make it better.

Spock wanted him to cease his actions, but he didn’t show it in is actions at all, still radiating in shock, still in the same position.

“I make you reevaluate your worth, despite your successes. I cannot bring a child into our life, for my mind is firmly set on the matter. I cannot remain on Terra for prolonged periods of time. I have created a rift in your friendship with McCoy. I hinder any progress with your mother. We cannot truly settle together, do you not see that?” Spock listed their problems, each word aching between them. “I should relieve you of this pain, for I give you nothing but that.” He added, loosening his grip, Jim’s advances being shoved away, “I have fooled myself, I have allowed myself to be absorbed by this illusion you have fed me. Tell me, Jim. What have I ever done for you outside of the Enterprise? What could I possibly do for you?”

Spock’s desolating inquiries weren’t rhetoric, all his plea for something to be right in this.

 

Stay.

Stay.

Stay.

 

These answers emerged in Jim’s thoughts, except he knew Spock was not satisfied with any of them. “You’ve loved me.” He breathed out, taking in Spock’s scent as if it would be the last time. “You could love me.”

This was the torn up doll he wished to avoid becoming.

 

The words were met with dejection instead of hope as Spock removed himself from Jim’s bubble completely.

“You are void of happiness. In the calmest of moments, I can still smell your fear. And you have turned this way because of me. ... You do not look at me the same." Spock mourned the loss of his role as a protector - as a confidant. 

They were trying so hard to become lovers again, Spock seriously questioned if they were even friends anymore ... and Jim wanted more than ever to forget that he heard that.

Whereas Jim was filled with spite, it was Spock that was the definition of heartache. He had his palm around his own neck, as if the very task of taking in air was becoming more challenging by the second. Standing up also seemed to be a task of great complication for Spock since he darted his eyes towards the seats repeatedly. 

No wonder Walker thought Spock was sick.

Here Jim was thinking that Spock was being sacrificial, running around with his martyr complex, when the reality of it was that he was tired too. Spock really meant it when he said that this was for both of them.

 

This was not the reality they were promised.

 

“Do it.” Jim insisted, treading further and moving his hand to Spock’s wrist in a daring gesture.

“No.” Spock scolded as if Jim was crazy, yanking his hand away from Jim’s grip.

It was just one mind-meld.

“I thought you said my strength was immeasurable.” And maybe Spock would believe his own damn words if Jim wasn’t such a bitch boy about it and sucked it up time to time.

Spock narrowed his eyes, his upper lip snarling. “But my strength is not.”

Jim was right … Spock was tired.

“Love is not meant to be a challenge.” Spock rarely spoke of Jim’s specific thoughts, mostly emotion. And here he was, speaking directly from the source, to the source, leaving no room for denial.

“Stop it.” Jim urged, not wanting to hear another word.

“You thought I was the one treating it as such, and I almost believed you, when in truth, it is you – “

“Shut up.” He quipped, covering one ear, walking away and throwing his weight onto a near couch.

“I am aware that you have commenced preparations to depart for New Vulcan after the return of the Cybele– “

“Wow – “ Jim huffed at the random comment, “Eventually, yes. I mean, it’s a working progress – “ His words were nonsensical at this point.

“- But do you intend to permanently reside there?” Spock shot the inquiry, expecting an immediate answer. When Jim didn’t answer, he yelled out Jim’s name.

“I don’t know!” He was fucking _young_. He didn’t want to leave and abandon what he could become. He couldn’t see himself living there and coming to Earth for mere visits. Just as it was impossible for Spock, it was impossible for him just the same. “That’s far down into the future – “

“A future you may not wish to partake in. You fail to consider that by then, any doubt could be too late.” Then they would truly be trapped. “I am not fully human. It is irresponsible to continue treating this as if we have the luxury to be patient. I was patient once before and because of that, it subjected you to a situation that _ruined_ us!”

Spock’s sobbed shout was another thing Jim added to the list of what he never wanted to hear again. It was core shaking. With the silence that followed, they just stared at the other.

 

“Say it.” Spock demanded coldly, creating goose bumps all over Jim’s body.

He couldn’t, despite the clarity of it. “No.” He automatically breathed out in a way that begged for Spock not to ask that of him.

 

It was one thing for Spock to walk out on him.

It was another to have this be on both of them.

 

Spock massaged his left temple, taking a few steps to the right, adopting Jim’s tendency to pace. “Jim, you have to let me go.”

When Jim denied Spock of this again, he accepted whatever Spock would do to coax the admission out of him. As expected, Spock swiftly returned to the table, placing his elbows on his knees, inspecting Jim’s trembling features. He tilted his head and blinked.

“No?”

“No.” He asserted once more. Where in the world did his dignity go?

Spock inched his face closer, and Jim remained still, dedicated to … to … to whatever the hell Spock was doing. Whatever it was, he wouldn’t falter.

Thinking Spock would repeat his query again, Spock instead took to leaning forward, flicking his dark eyes down to Jim’s quivering mouth.

 

He couldn’t feel a slither of what he would deem to be arousal, lust, or the simple need to just overall fuck - so he knew that what he was seeing before him wasn’t an accurate representation of what he felt. Spock wouldn’t block this from him, and yet, Spock looked at him like he wanted to eat Jim.

Like a frozen puppet, he sat still as Spock chastely placed his lips on Jim’s. It was the chasteness one would expect when experimenting with a new lover, but without all the uncertainty, only a familiarity to the calm.

He could kiss Spock, because the other Spock never kissed him.

Kissing was fine.

Kissing was safe.

And so Spock moved forward, parting his lips so they could slide their tongues. It went on like this until Spock lifted himself up from the table, taking to biting Jim’s bottom lip before returning to softly caressing the wet tissue.

Jim was enjoying the sensation too much to notice the rest of Spock's movements, or to properly deduce Spock's intentions.  

So he was shocked at the subtle clambering pain building up. It was a pang that kept persisting through his head, his mind fully alert to the invasion and forced stretches. It was fighting a trespasser - A familiar enemy.

Sometimes, Jim thought it would get better - like an immune system that grew more prepared with each attack through its memory cells. 

Then sometimes, he thought the continued exposure to this would just shut down his whole operation, rendering him permanently catatonic.

Pretty soon, he discovered the source of it all - Spock's fingers were resting on Jim's temples. Yes, this was nothing compared to what Spock forced on him before, but this was close enough. It was an insulting reminder of their limitation.

He felt Spock continue to press into his skin, so he automatically placed his hands over the hot hands. The second he did, Spock held on tighter, moving his lips to Jim’s jaw whilst pressing him deeper into the cushions.

The crackling opening of all the layers of his consciousness was a lightning strike that caused him to be momentarily blind.

Despite his obvious pain, Spock pressed him further into the couch with his weight and kept his teeth floating above Jim’s jugular. Spock was taking total control, unrelenting to Jim’s internal pleas to cease this.

He didn’t know if he was aroused or if he was on fire.

One could make the argument that arousal was fire, but this fire was not one of passion.

It was one of hot, melting agony.

He shut his eyelids and dug his nails into Spock’s shoulders, “Stop … stop it.”

 

And like slamming an emergency button, Spock released him, backing away with a sharp exhale as if shocked he did this to Jim without puking.

Jim gasped for air and enveloped his face with his shaking palms, hoping the temporary solace from the light would dissipate the shredding sounds swimming all over him.

When Spock demanded that Jim concede defeat, he nodded his head, for his eagerness to have Spock off him was a yield in itself.

Unsurprisingly, satisfaction from the success of getting his point across was the last thing Jim found in Spock’s mind, their link still raw from the meld. So he sat there, hearing Spock yank the bottle off the table and tossing it into the garbage, tsking by the disgust of the object and of what it represented.

 

This was not the reality they were promised.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS - Spock didn't deliberately do anything different to Jim. This was actually a normal consequence of the meld, and Spock was proving his point. 
> 
> Shame.


	22. SESSION 09

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> La Fin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All my work consists of angst.  
> Why???  
> Maybe I'm the one that needs therapy.
> 
> Dang. 
> 
> *buries the rubble remaining*
> 
> ~X

**SESSION 09**

“You must understand that there is no fault for either of you.” Ryhr uttered when Jim walked into the room without his usual uniform attire, eyes red from either crying himself to sleep or by sheer fatigue.

“I know.” Jim said, meaning it this time after serious contemplation.

His arms and shoulders still burned by the ghost of Spock’s arms as they rested together for the last time. They didn’t separate until the sun reintroduced herself. Her rays were the reminder that things would be catastrophically different from today onward.

Today, they were saying goodbye.

 

It was wrong because they were supposed to win.

With each thing he gathered to assist in Spock’s packing, he said to himself that this was nothing like winning.

 

“It’s just … when we’re together… we _win_.”

Ryhr then sadly smiled, rising up from his seat to stride to his cabinet next to the old clock. “I have heard.” He said as he dialed something up.

“Spock said that?” Jim wanted to smile but it was physically impossible. He hummed as he thought of how the conversation went.

Spock always did say that there was something and that he would define it, even going as far as to give it a title one day, because everything required an explanation of course. Spock also humored Jim that he would present this new theorem to whomever was willing to listen.

He wanted to choke up from the memory.

“I admit that this is a bit premature.” Ryhr said, “Although it would be a lie to say that I am surprised.”

“I _wish_ it caught me off-guard.” But it didn’t.

“Mr. Spock’s methods were unorthodox as well.” Ryhr’s tsk was heard from across the room. "Despite his obvious intentions."

“Maybe I should have agreed to a Vulcan healer...” He thought out loud, remembering Spock’s old and dead suggestion.

“And why didn’t you?” Ryhr asked, passing the cup to Jim, sitting next to him instead of back on his own seat.

He accepted the drink and sighed, “I had two Vulcans in my head.”

Ryhr widened his eyes, “Two?”

“Don’t ask.” He ordered with seriousness, “But, yeah. I said that would be it. I don’t know the others. Don’t trust them.” The whole world was already against them.

“I see.”

He gulped with a frown, genuine repentance coiling in his guts. “Was that cowardice of me?”

“It is peculiar,” Ryhr answered, “You accepted everything that was included in your relationship. Mr. Spock’s time, along with his attempts to expand and enter your mind – “

Ryhr’s logic was understood, but the sentiment wasn’t.

“But it was him.” He clarified.

“Oh,” Ryhr covered his mouth with squinted eyes. “So pain from him is more acceptable than the possible healing of a stranger.”

Jim didn’t respond. He couldn’t, for it would be admitting that he was mainly at fault for this.

“I sincerely hope that you two will one day reach a moment in your lives when you can meet again – “

“That can’t happen anytime soon.” Jim said after a sip, relishing the freezing liquid that nourished his parched throat walls. “It’s too much for me. This thing we have needs to disappear first. We need to continue with our separate lives, and we need to not feel this … this magnetic force.” It was cheesy, and yet, there was no other way to describe it. “I have to be okay with my life. I have to not _miss_ him, because any progress Spock gets in his life, he’ll feel like dirt if I give him one stupid look of wanting.”

“You forget that it is the same for you. Despite your successes – you are the one that called him. For your own good, it is Mr. Spock that cannot show you this side of him anymore – “

And that was it, wasn’t it?

The Spock he came to know, especially within the first two months of his initial visit was a Spock he would never see again.

Like liquor, Jim took a swing of the water, “Maybe if I wasn’t so darn lonely – “

“Loneliness was not the only aspect. It was not as if you called the first possible candidate that could eliminate it. You were in love, Mr. Kirk. There was a gnawing ‘what if’ and now, the thought can never exist again."

It made them sound like a trial run, “To even think that this is what we both _needed_ is insane – “ Jim wished he never went through with it. Hell, he wished he left it all alone.

“But you know it is true. Now with your next relationship, you can put your all into it. You have no idea how many times I hear of ‘the one that got away’. You will not be hindered by such thoughts, for you did not give up easily. It was a respectful loss.”

“It was supposed to work out.” Jim asserted, listening to Ryhr words and understanding them, but hating them all the same. “We were to persevere through all the bullshit. All these little things – “

“And _big_ things – “ Ryhr interjected, folding his fingers together.

“It _doesn’t_ matter.”

“This isn’t a failure – “

“But it feels like one. You don’t know the things we’ve seen and experienced together.” Ryhr didn’t even know about Ambassador Spock. He didn’t know a lick of the reassurances they had that no one else in this time had. “…It’s almost like someone told us that there would be greatness for the both of us and it would define us. It would be everything we wanted and we would just … freakin’ prosper.”

“And with what you two have accomplished on the Enterprise, this proved to be true.”

“It was also supposed to apply for us, for …this.” Jim pinched the bridge of his nose and breathed in deep. “I don’t know … maybe we’re too young. Maybe time got messed up and the chain reaction became too screwed, beginning from even before my birth. Maybe the situations were no longer similar or simply didn’t take place because of it. Maybe we had more at stake. Maybe… this is the wrong universe.”

Ryhr snapped his lips, looking at Jim with a thoughtful stare, not once speaking of the strangeness in Jim’s ramblings, “Then you must accept that this is your universe, for each one is different even by the most minuscule of details. All obtain value and show it in their own way.”

“But why mine’s?” Jim asked to the universe and not Ryhr specifically. “Why not some other one?” _Some other me, dammit._ “Why do I get to have that somewhere else and not here?”

“Because with these alternate events you speak of, maybe you are the one destined to receive something different, something more suited for you. And by this, I am speaking of the ‘you’ that you have become because of it. Although what you receive will be different, it does not equate to it being any less.”

“You’re saying there’s someone better out there for me?” Jim scoffed at the laughable notion.

“You insult compatibility constantly, but you must realize, compatibility is the foundation of where happiness can grow and flourish. Compatibility is vital."

And they didn't have it. “I can’t see it.”

“It does not have to be now.” Ryhr let him know, more saddened by Jim’s bitter laughs than irked like he normally was when faced with a hint of sarcasm. “But these alternate events you speak of means that you and Mr. Spock are on a different paths. With these paths, I believe that you both will discover happiness.”

It sounded like a dream.

“For now, my advice to you is to change your routine.” Ryhr continued, “With your rigorous schedule, I am apprehensive that you will use it as a means of distraction, operating on autopilot.”

“I won’t become some zombie.” Jim reassured, finishing the last of his water. He wiped his forehead and sighed. “But I’ve already taken actions towards your advice.”

This genuinely surprised Ryhr, “Really?”

“My free year.” He explained, “I haven’t touched it, but in around seven months time, I’ll be able to use it.”

“And how will you utilize this personal time?”

“I told you about my friend. The doctor.” Jim patted his chest from his cough, “Well, although he’ll be back from his vacation by then, he agreed to having me still come over.”

The slight cringe on Ryhr’s face wasn’t missed, “I was hoping for something more immediate.”

“Well his vacation is also apparently going to be my place.”

“Ah,” Now that received a better response. “Supportive surroundings can be extremely beneficial for healing. That, and they do not allow for any moping to take place.” Ryhr added with a sincere teeth-showing smile that Jim saw for the first time.

“This guy won’t. He’ll kick me out of bed if he has to. He’s sure done it before.” He did a hitched laugh, covering his mouth since he didn’t trust himself for it to not turn into an outright moan of distress.

“Mr. Kirk … I hope you will keep me up to date.”

“I should say that it’s inappropriate, Doctor.” Jim forced the jest with a smirk, still looking at the finished glass.

Ryhr raised both eyebrows at that for a quick second, “We both are aware that it is not, or I would not have asked. Besides this friend of yours, I am the only one fully knowledgeable of your situation. Speaking to me could aid in your healing.”

“Oh …” Jim appreciated the gesture, but still felt empty. It wasn’t fair that he was the only one being offered this when Spock was in the same situation as him. Spock only had his father, whom he knew wouldn’t understand.

“In case you are concerned, I extended the same offer to Mr. Spock.”

His mind screeched, “It’s scary whenever you do that, you know, and I’m Starfleet. I almost feel sorry for your human private civilian clients”

“Well … yes.” Ryhr shrugged, fixing the ends of his royal blue sleeves, “I have been told that I should obtain more Starfleet clientele – “

“Wise man.” Jim responded automatically, feeling a little bit better already.

Ryhr then extended his hand, delivering three pats to Jim’s back that was far from his normal obsequiously behavior, “Wise man, indeed.”

**.**

**.**

**.**

_After the oddest conversation Jim’s ever had, he could see the urge to retreat plastered on Spock’s face. He knew Spock had to leave, however it was that disquiet aura between them that made him not confident of Spock’s return._

_So when Spock took a step forward, Jim took to literally blocking the door._

_The entire thing sounded like bad fiction. While Spock stood in front of him with a gloomy cloud over his person, Jim ripped off his own sunglasses and hid the urge to cackle. It was the cackle he did when ready to do something incredibly stupid, like jump off a mountain with chasing hostile planet natives behind him.  
_

 

_“This is not a humorous predicament.” Spock sternly interjected Jim’s thoughts, most probably insulted by Jim’s red cheeks._

_The laugh then escaped Jim. How could it not since he was faced with a ‘fuck or die’ situation’. Shit, he knew he appeared insensitive. “You’re practically dumping this on me right before you leave. One would think this was your strategy.” He observed, pointing to Spock’s suitcases._

_Jim was using his guffaws to camouflage the stuttering nervousness that could easily escape his mouth, because by Spock’s description, he should have been running away._

_Far, far away._

_Spock sighed, looking more dead than ever. “My timing is indeed deliberate. It is so that you may have privacy to contemplate on your decision.”_

_“My mind is made up.” He crossed his arms, tilting his head as he reaffirmed his decision. There wasn’t another option._

_None._

_Spock perked a brow, seeming to be questioning Jim’s current state of mind – or the lack of it, “Shall I remind you of the consequences and the dedication required?”_

_“One – we’ve screwed on almost every surface of my house. Two – no matter how scary you try to make yourself sound, I won’t shrivel up.” Spock rubbed his eyes, mouthing off something unintelligible as Jim aired out their dirty laundry. “Three – you’re always in my mind, since it happens every time we touch each other. Don’t see the problem with a bond.”_

_"I already informed you that it is more intensive. Mere touch will no longer be required." Spock didn’t halt in his attempts to make Jim hide behind a couch, “Over time, it will stabilize – removal becoming unlikely.”_

_“And?” Jim rhetorically inquired, turning away with a shake of his head. “Listen, you have to admit this sounds a bit – “_

 

_Frightening._

_Intimidating._

_Tough._

 

_“Absurd.” Spock opined, his comm ringing. He ignored it nonetheless._

_“Funny.” Jim corrected with a chuckle. “You actually think I’m going to allow you to do this bond with someone else.”_

_This wasn’t going to be goodbye._

_“Cease the laughter, Jim.” The underlying uneasiness was evident for both of them. So Jim gave them that mercy by shutting up._

_“Do you expect me to run away, Spock?” He asked, moving closer and pulling Spock’s sleeve until they were both seated on one of the couches. He comfortably sat near his future bondmate, gripping Spock’s chin to face him. “I know what’s at risk. I know it can be dealt with by …other methods,” Jim physically shivered, sure that Spock felt it through their touch, “But I’ll never agree to it. I’m sorry, but I can’t. It’s not like you’re just going to fuck them, but you’ll be with them.”_

_“Jim – “_

_Just by the way Spock said Jim’s name, it should have been enough for Jim to tremble, because this was serious._

_“I’m with you and you’re with me, so we’ll go through this together like we’ve done so before and will do so again – “_

_“- and again.” Spock finished, his voice still lost of its usual confidence, his eyes dropping down to Jim’s lap, avoiding eye contact._

_“Now you’re getting the idea.” Jim cheesed, leaning down to place his lips right above Spock’s ear._

_“Your confidence should alarm me.”_

_“But could you really go through this with anyone else? Honestly?”_

_It was the dangerous query that shot Spock out of his stumped stupor, his eyes slightly widening. Jim wished more than anything to hear Spock's thoughts, his hands still on Spock’s face, moving them to caress those pale cheeks, providing a comfortable touch._

_“For the better of both of us, I should – “_

_Not wanting Spock to finish that sentence, Jim pressed his index finger to Spock’s lips._

_He just got Spock back, and he wouldn’t let him go._

_Not without a fight first._

_Spock parted his lips, blinking as if to reevaluate his reality, “It appears that we have come to a decision, then.”_

_Jim released the tension in his shoulders by pure relief, “Good, so when you come back – we can deal with this appropriately and when the time comes, we should be prepared, okay?”_

_“Preparations will begin, most certainly. I will compose a file of all the gathered intel regarding the subject.” Spock said, placing his hand over the one on his cheek, causing Jim to swallow from the heat of it, “If you still choose to continue, then to increase safety, it is imperative that we bond as soon as possible.”_

_“Screw safety. Safety has nothing to do with it.” Jim said, knowing that safety had everything to do with it. He just didn’t want to form this connection with Spock by the foundation of mere safety._

_The beautiful curves of Spock’s lips slightly shifted up as he moved Jim’s hand down, flipping Jim’s palm open. “It would give me the utmost pleasure to commence our marital bond, for it is the one thing I desire most of all.” He confessed with a light kiss into the crevice of Jim’s palm._

_Jim had to clear his throat when he witnessed the adoring gesture, “I … am honored."  
_

_“The honor is mine, Ashayam.”_

_The Vulcan endearment was one that never failed to make Jim’s insides melt. “When was the last time I told you how much you mean to me?” Yes, Spock definitely turned him into a sentimental fool._

_“The rapid deterioration of your short-term memory is deeply concerning, Jim.” Spock said his usual jibe, acting tired of the very declaration they both knew they would never tire of._

_“Play along, Spock.” He pestered, escaping from Spock’s grasp and lightly pushing Spock’s shoulder. Although Spock complained about the perpetual reminder of Jim’s love, Jim knew he loved it._

_Heck, he might miss it one day._

_Spock gave in, “Prior to arranging my belongings, you declared that I am your everything, five hours and thirteen minutes ago.”_

_“And I’ll tell you everyday.”_

_“As will I."_

_And that made Jim smile again. He would worry about his apprehension later, for he knew that he would do everything he could for the man. If not, then he knew he would try until he physically couldn’t anymore. “We’ll come out of this okay. You know that, right?”_

_Spock swallowed in response. Slowly, he used his fingers to softly trace Jim’s jaw, trailing down to his neck as if Jim’s skin was rare silk. The grim frown disappeared when Spock pecked Jim’s cheek, resting his head on Jim’s shoulder afterwards._

_“Spock?” He choked out, discontent by the eerie silence._

_Spock held onto him, tightening his grip so much, Jim wouldn’t have been surprised if the fabric of his shirt ripped. The genuine concern was the quicksand they were sinking under, and no matter how much Jim tried to prevent their deluge, they couldn’t ignore that they were being dragged down into dark territory.  
_

_They had to come out of this okay._

_That was the reality they were promised after all._

_… Right?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That’s the end of it.
> 
> I’m so thrilled I completed this prior to the election. The whole aura of my environment is not a pleasant one because of it. Luckily, all I had to do were a few edits. Last thing I wanted to do was write sad Jim & Spock though, considering the stab into the LGBTQ+ community. I’m dumped. 
> 
> But hey, I finished! 
> 
> Sending so much love out there.
> 
> *runs off to SIM.*
> 
> Meet me there?
> 
> ~X


	23. Epilogue ? (A/N)

_**A/N**_  
  
Greetings, lovely readers.   
I have been wondering if a Epilogue is necessary for this story.I recently read it again, and I have to say ... I am stuck.  
As a result, I have decided to put it up for a vote.   
  
If you care enough - let me know! <3  
  
 _~XEROXIIVA_

**Author's Note:**

> ~X


End file.
